A Wife for Sherlock Holmes
by tavingtonsbeauty
Summary: Seems impossible, but the man known as Sherlock Holmes is easily bored. That boredom drove him to the arms of a highly intelligent woman who could keep up with him both physically and mentally. However, when a child is thrown into the mix, Sherlock steps up, to the chagrin of the woman, and they marry. With so much baggage on both sides will it work or be a match made in hell.
1. Strange Events

The Wife of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 1 – Strange Events

September 2010

Marion sighed as she looked moodily into her tea cup at the corner café. She was only three blocks from 221 B Baker Street – the home of Sherlock. Sherlock, the man who was a sensation in London, the man who could solve any crime, the man whom she has sparred with until her limbs felt like jelly, the man whom she had gone to dinner with that night, the man whom she had enjoyed conversation with until late in the evening, and he was the man she had allowed to bed her.

She had survived a brutal attack in her teens and had not been into sex or sexual feelings, but Sherlock was different. He was brilliant and spoke to her as an equal or slightly below him, but he seemed to respect her knowledge, experience, and degrees (of which she had four and was working on a fifth in kinesiology, a second doctorate). He was cool and calculating, and yet a thrilling lover. He had been gentle and yet demanding as was fitting and she had not left the next morning for work disappointed.

And her co-workers had noticed the bounce in her step. She had been thrilled to meet with him a week later. He had been a pleasant way to distract herself from the misery of being alone and not really settling down. Naturally, when she saw him her heart fluttered. They spoke until the restaurant closed and then went to her home for more wine, and then him becoming bored it seemed with discussing things and he had pounced. Never had she felt wearier and never had she felt as alive as she basked in the afterglow of his lovemaking.

They had three outings, all had ended with wine, discussions that were so in depth that even he seemed surprised at her ability to see the small and almost unnoticeable, but then she had done much field work in various parts of the world. Then they had returned to her flat for more talk and eventually had joined together as lovers.

For one who had supposedly been only with one other woman, he had a rather amazing skill and was hardly humble about it. His lithe body made her own sing in ways she never thought possible. It was not until after they had made love for the third time on the last time they had been together that he had looked at her, his green eyes bright, and he had asked her about her attack. Though he had not let on he had noticed her scars.

He explained what he thought had happened and he was remarkably spot on and she was hardly surprised. She had sat up from him and turned away, suddenly embarrassed by all of it. Tears in her eyes she had told him that it was okay if he left, she understood. He had commented he had known since he first saw her that she had suffered at the hands of someone. She had a scar on her shoulder and she had cut marks on her wrist from where she had cut it often with a razorblade. All were scarred over from her self-harm. That was something someone did to deal with the pain of a trauma. Bring gang raped by several men definitely qualified.

She bore the scars of cuttings on her thighs and on her wrists. She often wore large bracelets and cuffs that hid the scars from the all eyes, but in a lover's arms, he could see them if he looked and felt them. Sherlock had gently held her wrist and looked up as his thumb had traced the deep cuts as he had spoken.

He then had looked at her and told her it all didn't matter. He had kissed her and pressed her back. He had left that morning and she had not seen him since, but she had seen the papers. He had solved several cases over the past couple months. She sighed. Maybe he had become bored.

She looked down at the paper before her. She nibbled her lip. How would he take knowing that he was to be a father? They had not used precautions against it. What on earth had possessed her not to? Complete and utter infatuation with a man who would not return it. She sighed. He had not returned her calls or texts since their last outing and she was again not surprised, but he deserved to know at least. Perhaps he could pay her a visit when the baby was due, be in the child's life to a degree.

She swallowed, collected the paper, and paid for her tea and biscotti. She then moved to watch down the street. It had been cloudy all day and it began to rain. She shook her head and continued to Baker Street.

The rain became more and more, like her mood until she was drenched. She sighed and looked upwards, letting the water fall on her face and drip downward. It made her hijab sodden and she blinked clearing the water from her eyes.

Once at 221B she knocked at the door. No answer. The bell was broken. She sighed. Perhaps he wasn't at home…

Just as she moved to turn away the door opened and an older woman looked out. "Dear me…what on earth are you doing out in this, dearie?!" She looked at the younger woman who was shivering before her.

"I need to…to see Sherlock Holmes."

"He is here. I will take you to him." The older woman said. "Come in then."

She stepped in and the woman locked the door behind her. She then led the way up the stairs. Marion sighed. She must look a fight with her head wrap plastered to her head water dripping from it and her light jacket. She was shivering a little.

"Sherlock…some girl here to see you. She looks a mess, I will make her some tea."

"Very well, thank you, Mrs. Hudson." Came his rich voice.

For a few moments Marion stood in the middle of the floor, dripping, waiting to be acknowledged. It was not until she sneezed that Sherlock looked up from the laptop he was looking at. He saw her and his green eyes softened a little.

"Marion. What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I needed to speak to you." She whispered. She reached for a tissue and quietly blew her nose and threw it in a bin nearby before looking back at him.

"About? And don't be boring. I have been dealing with far too much of that recently." He said rubbing his eyebrows.

"Oh for goodness sake Sherlock. Let her sit." Mrs. Hudson said. She brought the young woman a blanket. She took the coat from the girl who shivered more, though wrapped the warm blanket about herself.

"Well by all means make yourself at home." He said a little coldly.

She nodded and dropped into a chair. She was shivering, but the fire was warming her. Mrs. Hudson poured her some tea and her hands shook as she held it. Mrs. Hudson then left and the girl was left alone with her lover who was watching her keenly. His green eyes missed nothing. She had noticed this and read about it.

"Now. Why are you here?" He asked looking at her.

She took a breath. "I came to speak with you."

"Clearly."

"I need to know where our relationship stands."

"Our relationship?"

"I…you…we…"

"We had dinner and sex three nights. It was a distraction." He said. "Nothing more. One we both required." He said simply.

She nodded. "I figured as much. I will not take up any more of your time, Mr. Holmes." She said. She rose to her feet and set the cup down. She then turned to walk away, fighting back tears, she knew it had been silly to hope. So silly. He was a cold unfeeling man after all, brilliant in mind and body, but cold toward his fellow man. She tried to pull herself together so she would not be weeping in front of him. She knew female tears likely angered him or annoyed him.

A warm hand caught her wrist. He looked at her. He was close again. Too close… She could smell him and feel the warmth of him through her shirt and his own. He lifted her hand and pulled the paper from her cold fingers. She gasped and tried to stop him. He looked at her and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

He stepped away and read it, quickly.

She closed her eyes and took a breath. Hearing nothing she shook her head and moved to the door. Her hand was on the handle.

"Is it mine?" He asked then.

"Yes. There can have no other father." She said sighing. "Pardon for your time, Mr. Holmes. It was a silly girl's notion that you would care."

"Marion…"

She turned back at his soft rich voice. She met his gaze. "Yes?" He had moved closer again, but this time was not in her space. He stood back regarding her.

"Stay." He said softly.

She took a breath and then nodded turning back. She walked toward him, head down. "I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen." She whispered.

"Neither did I." He said. "Are you well?" His head cocked, almost as though he were concerned.

"Yes." She said looking at his green eyes. She spread her hands. "Now what?"

"We must marry of course." He said. "I must provide for you and my…offspring." He looked down at her middle.

She looked up. "I do not wish to be married just for it."

"It is the only reason I would marry." He said simply, his lips in a bit of a sneer.

"No." She said.

"No? You can be married to the great Sherlock Holmes and you refuse…"

"I have my own pride. Good day." She said turning.

She was livid by her body language and her hands were balled at her sides. He reached for her, his hand on her elbow and she turned a hand up. He caught the blow, barely and then held her. She tried to hit him with the other hand and he grabbed it as well. He turned her, holding her arms and wrapping them about her body, holding her as she gasped and fought. He had completely incapacitated her, her! A Krav Maga master was now being held firmly by this man who would not let her go. She felt his head drop to the side of hers. He had her pulled back to his body. He was so warm and the scent of his cologne made her shiver.

"I won't let you injure yourself or the baby. Calm down, Marion." He hissed in her ear.

"Let me go!"

"No."

"Let me go!" She fought trying to break free, but he held her, gently, but firmly in a way she could not escape him. He felt her stop, but tears were still in her eyes until she dropped back against him.

"Marion?" He asked. He held her to him, letting her arms drop as he turned her in his arms, dropping to his knee to cradle her. She had passed out. He gently tapped her face. When he realized how cold she was, he sighed lifting her in his arms.

"Mrs. Hudson! John!"

Mrs. Hudson came up and John came down from his room. Both watched Sherlock carry something into his room. Sherlock knelt on his bed and laid her on the bed. He pulled the jacket off and hung it up. She was still wet and cold.

Mrs. Hudson peeked around the corner. "Sherlock…?"

"Do you have any dry clothes? Warm ones?"

"Yes of course…what happened to her?"

"She fainted." He said. "Ah John. Can you look her over while Mrs. Hudson finds her some dry clothes?"

John nodded and gently looked her over. When he was done he looked up. "Other than borderline hypothermia she seems to be alright." He cocked his head. "Friend of yours?"

Sherlock nodded as he stood, hands together, index fingers to his lip. His green eyes were watchful.

John looked at his flatmate and friend. "Who is she?" He lifted her wrist. "She has been through hell."

"Yes. She was gang raped at sixteen." Holmes said softly. "After that trauma cutting is not as bad as some habits she could have gotten into."

"Like smoking?" John jabbed.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and let that slide. "Her name is Marion."

"And she is here…"

"She had some news for me."

"News? For you?" John blinked. "Really. I never would have thought I would see the day."

Sherlock handed him the rain smudged paper with a sigh. He was not embarrassed so much as just accepting the turn in the game. John looked up. "She's pregnant." He said. "We need to get her out of those clothes, some more tea and warm food in her."

"Yes." Sherlock said. He moved and dropped onto the bed, the bed bowing a little under his weight.

"I have the clothes. I had an old night dress. It is flannel. It will warm her in a jiffy. Especially if you light a fire, Sherlock."

"What?" He asked looking up from her dreamy face. "Oh…yes." He moved to start a fire in the hearth.

Mrs. Hudson then pulled the clothing off the young girl. She then dressed her in the flannel night gown. Both Sherlock and John had averted their eyes until the girl had the blankets up to her chin.

Mrs. Hudson sighed. "I will make more tea and some soup for her."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson."

The lady walked out and downstairs as John turned to Sherlock who dropped to the bed again looking at the girl. "What is she to you?"

Sherlock looked up. "You aren't stupid, John. Think."

"She came to tell you are pregnant because…" John had started to pace and then he whirled to face Sherlock. "No…"

Sherlock met his gaze evenly.

"You are the father?"

"It would appear so." Sherlock said looking her over. "How does a woman look when she is carrying a child? She doesn't have a swollen abdomen, but then she could only be a little less than three months along." He looked and touched her abdomen gently as if searching for a swell. "Perhaps it is a rouse…"

"This paper is from the hospital." John said holding it up. "She is pregnant." He paused. "When did you…"

"She is brilliant actually. She works for the museum." Sherlock said. "And she knows Krav Maga." He smiled thinking that was how she had won him over, beating him in a match of hand to hand combat. Then at dinner was the battle of wits. He had thought some rather naughty things looking across the table at her sipping her wine and wondering if he could just take her there or if they needed to wait to get to a flat, any flat would do, but thankfully they had managed to get to hers. She had many interesting pieces of anthropological significance in her flat that he had seen when he had roamed about as she slept. And she liked him. Another mark in her favor naturally.

"So you met her and you had sex and now she is here, in our flat, carrying your child."

"I want her to marry me." Sherlock said looking at the girl. He reached down and pulled her hair out of the restricting bun and pulled off her hijab. It was interesting she wore that, but she had done a couple of moves that only a Syrian would do, so perhaps it made sense. Her hair was fiery red in the low light as he uncoiled it and laid it out on the pillow next to her. He shook it out, since it was wet to dry.

"Pardon?"

Sherlock looked up. "It makes sense. I can protect her, care for her, be there when the baby is due, and support her as well as I can."

"A marriage is based on many things, Sherlock."

"Are you seriously going to lecture me on relationships since you are currently single and have had seven girlfriends this year?"

John sighed. "I know. I have watched several fall apart over things like money…"

"I would not ask her if she was not carrying my child."

"Afraid?"

"No." Sherlock said. "But she will need to be here, in the flat, with us."

"Mrs. Hudson will be thrilled." John smiled.

"I want her to see reason."

"She isn't keen on the idea?"

"No, but I will make the argument so logical she will have to accept."

"That is charming." John said. "You haven't even said you love her."

"I don't." Sherlock sighed. "I do not know what love even is."

"Affection?"

"She is pregnant because I was bored enough to bed her. I should at least stand by her." He said. He chuckled then. "I wish I could see Mycroft's face when someone tells him I am not a virgin after all and that I have a child coming."

John then smiled a little. "Indeed."

"Still perhaps it will be fun to learn this new avenue in my life. Perhaps it was time to settle down. I am not getting any younger." Sherlock said rising. "Not that I really wanted…attachments."

John nodded. "Very well. I will be back to check on her in a while. You staying here?"

"Yes." Sherlock said watching the fire dance on her bronze skin.


	2. Decisions

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 2 – Decisions

Marion woke.

She was in a different bed. She blinked. The bed was bigger than hers. The sheets were clean, though they had a scent to them. She lifted an arm to her face and looked up at the ceiling.

Where was she? Then she sniffed the sheets about her. She gasped. She was in his bed! Oh sweet lord in heaven help her. She was in his flat still. A thunder crash made her gasp.

She struggled to sit up, but then gasped her hand going to her head and she laid back. "Easy. You are weak and still need a good meal in your belly." His voice said.

She groaned. "Go away." She hissed.

"I can't you see. You are in my bed in my flat." Sherlock said. He smiled at her, his eyes dancing because he knew he had her there.

She covered her face with her arm and then looked at it. "Where did this come from?" She asked looking at the night gown.

"It suits you." He said smiling a little. "Can I get you anything? Mrs. Hudson is making you some tea and soup."

"Your housekeeper is quite nice."

"She isn't the housekeeper." John said stepping in from the door. "She is the landlady."

She looked at him and then looked at Sherlock who moved to sit beside her.

"How are you feeling?" John asked. She looked at him. He had a mop of short blonde hair, was wearing a sweater and jeans. He folded his arms as he regarded her.

"Well enough." She said lifting her chin as she looked at her lover who was watching her carefully. She arched an eyebrow at him and looked back at John.

He fortunately took the hint. "I am Doctor John Watson. Call me John. I am Sherlock's flatmate. I guess you will be seeing a fair amount of me."

"Oh?"

"He means he is quite happy to have you here once you marry me." Sherlock said.

"Oh is he?"

"Now, I did not say that…" John said.

"So you do not wish me here?" She asked.

He looked at her in horror. "No. I mean. I want you to…"

Sherlock shook his head. "Now…back to the matter at hand." He said. "You, my dear, are pregnant, by me, and so are both my responsibility."

"That was is all chivalrous, but I can look after myself. Why should I marry you?"

"You need support. It is the only reason why you can here. You have no family and you are scared." He said looking at her face.

She grunted and tried to swat at him. He easily dodged her attempt and took her hand in his. "I do not want to be married."

"But with a baby…the sigma of having a baby out of wedlock." He countered.

"I would be alright. You would help anyway."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She shook her head. She patted the bed around her. "This is rather nice." She said. She yawned and stretched like a cat.

He watched her and then shook his head. "I will have you marry me for protection. And you will need to come live here."

She looked at him as she sat up. "Demanding little…" She took a breath as his eye quirked. "…man aren't you."

"I have been told."

She shook her head. "We are not even in love, Sherlock."

"God no." He muttered and when she looked down and lifted a hand. "But I am willing to try. It is how things are done and Lord knows Mrs. Hudson would love to have another woman here." He shook his head.

Mrs. Hudson brought tea and then Sherlock lifted the spoon after blowing on it. Marion's eyes narrowed. "I am not glass, Mr. Holmes."

"Ahhh, but you are my problem now and I will care for you." He pressed it to her lips. She glared up at him, her arms folded, but then relented, allowing him to feed her. She did not like it an objected as much as she could, but often was silenced by him pressing a spoon to her lips.

When she was finished he looked at her. "Good. Now at least the pair of you won't starve."

She looked at the window. It was still raining very hard. She winced and shivered drawing the blanket about her.

He rose to his feet. "You should have your rest." He said softly.

She nodded and settled watching the flames dance. She settled down and then cocked her head, hearing the music playing from the other room. It was a violin.

He had told her he played. She listened and smiled. He played very well. There was so much they needed to learn about each other, but it could wait. She sighed and relaxed and soon slept.

It was sometime later then Sherlock walked into the room. His future wife was sound asleep in his bed. He smiled looking at her. She was beautiful and her hair was tousled. In the low light it looked molten. He then removed his clothing and pulled on a night shirt and pants, watching her the whole time, listening to her soft breaths.

He shook his head. He never imagined a woman sleeping there. The room was his sanctum, but he supposed he was going to have to get used to her in his personal space. He planned to marry her as soon as he could to make sure she was protected. He would insist on a doctor appointment as well.

He settled into the bed with her, away from her body as she rested on her stomach. Soon she would not be comfortable that way, he mused. He shifted her hair from her face and bent over her. "Sleep well, Mari." He whispered and brushed a soft kiss to her cheek.

ZzZ

Sherlock woke and found himself alone.

He gasped looking about. Where had she gone off to? He got up, pulling on a dressing robe, he walked out into the common room. She was not there. He looked at his clock. It was nine-thirty. Perhaps she had work to do?

He then noticed shoes by the door. The shoes were far too small for him and John. They were a lady's size 2.5. Size two point five? She was an elf! He wore an 11.5. He looked at his foot. His two toes would not fit into that shoe!

He looked about and saw her nowhere, but as he came to the stairs he heard voices below him. Female voices. Two of them. One was clearly Mrs. Hudson. The other was younger and was laughing in delight at something. He smiled a little. Mari's smile and laugh could light up a room and she had no idea she had the power.

He sighed and walked down to the door that went into the kitchen of the landlady who doted on Sherlock. She owed Sherlock much after she had made sure that her husband faced the death penalty in America. He would never bother her again.

He opened the door and the smell of French Toast, bacon, and tea reached his nose. He blinked as he saw his future wife standing at the stove as Mrs. Hudson sat with a cup of tea in her hands.

"Did he really do that?" Mrs. Hudson asked laughing.

"I know hard to believe, but he…" Marion looked up seeing her future husband. He was tousled from sleep. He looked at her with his narrowed green eyes. She was in the flannel nightgown, feet bare on the hard surface of the kitchen, her thick long hair reigned back into a braid that hung thick over one shoulder. It did nothing to help her elf image. "Well well. I thought you may sleep the day away. Come for breakfast, Sherlock?" She flicked it back over her shoulder and it hung down her back nearly to her full buttocks that he loved to hold in his hands. And her hair always smelled of rosemary and jasmine. Interesting choice for shampoo.

Mrs. Hudson smiled. "She cooks, Sherlock."

"I can see that, but I am trying to understand why she is on her feet." He said folding his arms, his intense green eyes watchful.

"I am a professional woman. I am not going to be in bed all day." She said. She rolled her eyes. "I am on my feet much of the day." She shrugged. "Work, training, and maybe some dance later."

"You may think differently later on." He said. He shook his head and walked to her. He kissed her cheek softly. "Good morning."

Mrs. Hudson smiled as Sherlock lightly caressed Mari's back. He then reached passed her to look to see if there was any orange juice or something similar.

"So. I haven't heard much about you, Mari. What do you do?"

"I am a curator for the British Museum." She smiled. "All the fun artifacts. Makes me feel a bit like Indiana Jones." She chuckled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and poured a glass of juice and drank a sip. "You feel like a made up man who stole treasures."

"Well not like that, and I am in a lab much of the time…"

"That sounds lovely. I am surprised he did not say a word about you. I have never seen you before and suddenly you come in the rain and stay with him all night."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "She is to be my wife, Mrs. Hudson."

"Your wife? You are getting married? You?" Mrs. Hudson blinked.

"Oh have no fear, we will be remaining at Baker Street." He smiled. "At least until the new addition arrives at the very least." He smiled a little. "Perhaps longer. I am sure it won't be too much of a bother."

"New addition?" Mrs. Hudson blinked.

"Yes." Sherlock smiled. He turned as Mari flipped some of the toast. His large hand pressed to her belly, right above the juncture of her thighs. He pointedly looked back at Mrs. Hudson and then up at the startled Mari. He gave her a quick peck on her cheek before stepping back.

Mrs. Hudson gasped. "No…"

When Sherlock smiled a little she squealed and leapt up and hugged Sherlock about his middle startling him. "Mrs. Hudson!" He nearly spilled the juice he held. She moved back and looked up at him her hands together.

"I never thought I would see the day…I knew you would find someone. She is smart, pretty, and perfect." She giggled excitedly. She hugged Mari and then she pulled the woman away handing the spatula to Sherlock who looked at it as the pair started to chatter to each other so quickly he could hardly follow. He blinked and looked back at the toast.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" He interjected into the conversation.

The both looked up at him. Mrs. Hudson was holding Mari's hand gently and smiled up at him. "When they are ready, put them on a plate. Really Sherlock. You are the smartest man in the world and you don't know how to…"

Mari rose to her feet. She shook her head. "They are ready. Just put them on a plate and have them."

He nodded and did as she said dropping into a seat to eat the perfect slices. He took a bite and looked back at her, his eyes narrowed. "Keep this up, I am going to have to keep you, Mrs. Holmes." He said.

Mrs. Hudson paused eating hers as she watched Sherlock demolish his plate. She had never seen him eat more than tea and the occasional pastry. He had just devoured four slices of French Toast and then took too more from the stack on the table. He cut into them wanting more.

"Doctor." Mari said looking back at the new slices as she looked at the moodily.

"Pardon?" Sherlock asked wiping the syrup from his lip. He had devoured the slices and held a piece of bacon in his fingers. It was perfectly crispy. He ate it and shook his head. Perhaps marrying her for the food was even worse than for the baby, but he could argue the logic of that as well.

"Doctor." She repeated. "Doctor Bayezid."

He blinked. He had not really considered that. She had a PhD and a second she was working on a second. He also had not realized she would be so sensitive about it. John really wasn't, but then he was male and not pregnant. She flipped the toasts and sighed.

He rose to his feet and put the dish in the sink. "Thank you, Mari, that was lovely." He then walked to her and kissed her cheek again. "Doctor Holmes." He whispered and his eyes met her gaze before he turned to leave.

He went upstairs and Mrs. Hudson smiled as Mari watched him go. "He is quite taken with you, even if he has a hard time showing it." She then chuckled. "I do not expect he will eat another month after that meal."

Mari smiled and dropped into a place. "He eats, just not as much as I like." She chuckled. "He is so thin, no wonder."

"He is a good man and will treat you proper in his own fashion."

Mari nodded. "I know."

She walked up stairs after Mrs. Hudson had shooed her telling her she cooked the least the woman of the house could do was do the dishes. She looked about the room. Clearly two men lived there. Piles of paper were everywhere. At least it was clear that Mrs. Hudson kept an eye on them.

She moved some of the papers out of the way and then lifted the violin. It was sitting on a chair. She looked at it as she held it carefully, like an artifact. It was so lovingly attended.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock's voice asked.

She was pulled from her revere as she looked at him. "I was admiring your…"

"Don't touch it!" He barked taking it from her.

"You had it where someone could sit on it." She snapped back.

He narrowed his eyes. God, he was handsome in his dress shirt that was buttoned to the last top button which he left open. He wore black pants and regarded her coldly. She just shook her head unable to take the green eyed stare and walked into his bedroom. Bent doing the bed making made her all the smaller in his eyes no doubt. What had she gotten into?

Touching his things, in his room, this woman could be the very end of him. He held his violin and string as he looked after her and then saw her making the bed and fretting over the simple task. Why on earth would she be doing that?

He stepped closer and then saw her red rimmed eyes. She narrowed them at him and continued putting her head back down. "Are my clothes dry?" She asked.

"How would I know?" He asked. "Mrs. Hudson has them."

She sighed and moved to walk passed him and he caught her arm.

"You are angry."

"Brilliant deduction, Mr. Holmes. Now if you excuse me."

He held her elbow, long fingers locked about it, holding firmly, but gently in a hold she could break if she wished. "Why?"

"You are angry too."

"No I was annoyed, but clearly you meant no harm." He said. "But I do not know what raised your ire."

She hissed and freed herself and walked to the stairs and down calling for Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. This was going to be a very long day for him. He reached to the side and pulled out a nicotine patch. He was totally unused to the wills of women let alone one who was surging with hormones.

It was going to be a very long day indeed.


	3. An Ordinary Day - Almost

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 3 – An Ordinary Day, Almost…

After collecting her clothing, Mari had taken a cab home. She had not said goodbye to her intended since he and John had apparently left suddenly after getting a call. She got Sherlock's number from Mrs. Hudson as well as John's.

She would text them later to find out how they were. For now she had other things on her mind.

She had dressed and packed a bag for Krav Maga practice after work and her new costume for her tribal belly dancing. Her friends, Lizzy and Bethany, wished to get together and work on some bending , and she was happy to accept.

She made her sure her hijab was sitting right as she walked into the museum. She was only five minutes late, a miracle considering, and today, blessedly, was her late day. She wore walked to her desk and began to read through the emails she had.

However, before that, she texted to her dear intended. _Will be late today. Hope your case is fun. Cheers. MB_

Her phone chimed and she looked down. It had already been two hours since she had been there and she had been answering her email, seeing to the project at hand, and speaking to the board. Where had the time gone?

She leaned back and looked at the text. _Dinner at 7? SH_

She smiled a little. So he had not forgotten her. She sighed and shook her head then. _I have Krav Maga at 5:30 and plans after. 8? _

There was a long pause and then. _Should you be doing Krav Maga pregnant? SH_

She shook her head. _I am meeting with two other masters for a bout. Will be fine. Tomorrow I am fencing. Thanks for your concern. _

_Dinner at 7:30 then? SH_

She rolled her eyes. _8:30. _

_7:30. SH_

The man could be so infuriating. _Fine. 7:30. Where?_

_There is a lovely Indian restaurant just up Baker Street. SH_

_Sounds lovely. See you there then. _

_Dress in that lovely dress I saw in your closet. I am sure you will be stunning. SH_

_You are telling me what to wear now? _

_Not at all, but I am sure you will look lovely. SH_

She sighed. _All right. See you then Mr. Holmes. _

_Indeed, Dr. Holmes. SH_

She finished her work at the museum and headed to the dojo where her master friends were. They spoke together and then had a bout. Mari was a higher black belt than either of them, and won both matches, but not without some bruises. One was just below her breasts from a foot. Another was on her thigh from a staff. They hurt, but it was nothing a warm soak in a bath with Epsom salts wouldn't cure.

She traveled to Lizzy's studio where she taught both yoga and belly dancing. Being half Turkish and half Syrian, dancing like this was in her blood, but it was a woman's dance. Only in western European countries was it a dance for everyone to enjoy. There were two styles as well. The first was traditional and the second, the type Marion participated in, was tribal fusion.

Using very industrial tones and often wearing more elaborate costumes, tribal was a phenomenon born from the United States from a lady in Seattle named Rachel Brice. In the UK it was still budding, but Bethany, being American had studied the style. It was a great deal of work and fun.

As Mari was arching backwards in a back bend, the door opened. She ignored it and then shifted dropping to the floor in a spin and arching her back upwards as she moved to the music, her stomach muscles rippling.

Sherlock and John froze. Dressed in one of his best shirts, coat, and scarf, he stood in the room watching the three women move to the music with sensuous movements of their bodies. John stood mouth gapping as Mari shifted and spun around.

Sherlock stepped forward and caught her to him. She looked startled as he shifted moving with her rather than interrupting her movements. She bent back and his hand was flat on her back supporting her as she arched to the floor. She planted her hands and brought her legs over handing in a split looking up at him.

He smiled realizing she was flirting with him. She looked up at him and the music ended as she bent backwards over her back leg. Sherlock smirked. She would not be doing that in six months time. He walked to her and offered her a hand. She took it and rose to her feet hissing a bit as her hand went to her chest.

His eyes flashed concern and she waved it off. She walked, barefooted to her friends. "Apparently I must be leaving."

"Who is your handsome friend?" Bethany asked.

"My fiancé." Mari said.

Their eyes widened as he turned back. "I said I would be there at 7:30." She said.

"It is seven now. If we arrive at your flat, you will have time to dress and get to dinner at that time. On our way." Sherlock smiled.

"Dr. Watson." Mari said.

He blinked and looked at her. "Ummm yes?"

"Stop staring. It is not as though we are naked."

His mouth clapped shut and the other two women giggled as he turned to follow Sherlock and Mari out to the taxi that was waiting. Sherlock, Mari, and John all got into the back. Sherlock told the driver the address without looking up and they were on their way.

It was cooler and Mari shivered a little in spite of the fact she was sandwiched between two men and in a warm car. Sherlock seemed not to notice as he looked on his phone as they went. She leaned back letting her body settle.

Once at her flat she opened the door and they men followed her up into her flat. It was small, but oddly fit her. She was already pulling clothing off as she went to the shower while Sherlock moved to her kitchen.

John sat down in a chair admiring all the small figurines she had and interesting bowls. "She said she works at a museum. It looks like one in here."

"She has an impressive collection, yes." Sherlock said finding his aim. He lifted a small candy bar. "She also knows a really good chocolatier." He broke off a piece and handed it to John. "You really must try this."

"Shouldn't you ask her before you eat her chocolate?" John asked putting it in his mouth. Sherlock was right, it was likely the best chocolate he had ever tasted, but he was not about to allow Sherlock to know that.

Sherlock smiled. "Perhaps, but you have no idea where I was eating them."

John whipped his head around to look at Sherlock's smirking face. "Pardon?!"

"Why is it such a surprise when I make any kind of sexual reference?"

"I um…well…"

"I would think it quite clear that I have some experience in this regard. I have a woman who has never said anything negative about my…skill, and she is pregnant because of it."

"You are so modest even in that." John said.

"What?" Mari asked stepping out of the bathroom. Her body was wrapped in a towel that went to her mid thigh and clung to her ample bosom. Her long hair was wrapped in another towel on her head.

"Nothing. Come on we are running late." Sherlock hissed at her, his hands behind him, his mouth holding the piece he had in his mouth to the side so he could speak freely.

She rolled her eyes. "Help yourself to the chocolate you are so fond of Sherlock. Perhaps Doctor Watson would like some." She said turning away.

Sherlock coughed a little as she shut the door. Little minx knew full well he had had some. What an adventure it would be to be married to her. However, he was a little concerned. Her thigh was starting to color in a line across it. Perhaps it was nothing, but still.

She came out only a few moments later holding a handbag, wearing a light jacket, and wearing a rather beautiful dress of black and silver that hit her at her lower thigh. She wore wedges that made her a couple inches taller, so she now was nearly looking John in the eye. She wore a beautifully embroidered headscarf of black with silver thread that added to the beautiful of her olive skin. "Shall we then."

John rose to his feet. "You look stunning." He said. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

Sherlock stepped forward and offered his arm. "Are you ready, Mari?"

"For what?" She asked as they stepped outside.

"The greatest adventure of our lives." He said his green eyes flashing. John called a taxi as a little bit of snow began to fall. Sherlock opened the door for her and she got in. John got in the front and Sherlock settled in the back beside his fiancée. She looked out the window as John told the address to the driver.

She then realized something was amiss as they drove to the Eye. "Wait why are we here?"

"Seemed like a good place to make an impression." Sherlock said as he got out and opened the door.

"You can't be serious…" She whispered as he took her hand and walked with her to the entry. It was almost completely deserted.

He smiled at her and bent pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. "Come on then unless you are afraid of heights." He taunted.

"I am not…" She said lifting her chin.

"Well there you go then." He ushered her up. Inside the lit capsule were Mrs. Hudson, a man she did not know in black wearing the collar of an Anglican vicar, and two men with suits on.

"Well, well, so this is the lovely bride then." One said rising to his feet and smiling as he walked to her. He kissed her cheek. "DI Greg Lestrade." He said.

"Marion Bayezid." She said.

"Soon Holmes." He smiled. "Come here dear, let me speak to you while the guests arrive."

"Guests?" She blinked. Her future husband was hardly social, but perhaps for a limited time he could tolerate people in his presence.

"Actually this is everyone." Sherlock said. He looked about as three people in serving uniforms came in. The capsule was locked shut and then started to move. It was smooth and Sherlock walked to where Mari was seated. He offered his hand and she rose to join him.

She looked out. "So beautiful." She whispered.

"The people here are people who have some meaning to my life." Sherlock said. He looked back at John and Mrs. Hudson together. "So I felt it would be that you were all part of being here while I take my wedding vows."

Mari turned back to look at him. "I…we…what? Here?"

The vicar rose to his feet. "If the bride and groom would step forward."

Mari was still startled as Sherlock walked her forward. He lifted her hand and held it in his as he watched her. She was a little unnerved to be under his scrutiny so. The vicar began to speak about the important of marriage, but the bride and groom paid little attention.

There was a pause and Sherlock took the signal. He lifted her cool hand to his lips and kissed it before speaking. "I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take you, Al Zahra Miriam Bayezid, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy law, and this is my solemn vow."

She blinked up at him. The vicar cleared his throat. "Your vows, Miss."

She blinked as a tear fell and then she took a breath. "I, Al Zahra Miriam Bayezid, take you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy law, and this is my solemn vow." She ended, her voice cracking at a whisper.

He nodded a little. "Just a little longer, don't faint." He said softly so only she could hear. He then cleared his throat and lifted a single, but elegant ring. "With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." He said firmly watching her as he placed it on her finger. It fit perfectly. Where had he had time to know that?

John coughed lightly and lifted a ring to Mari. She gazed at it and then up at her husband. "With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." She pressed it onto his ring finger. It also fit perfectly. Well , well, Mr. Holmes had been busy. She blinked. And she had never heard his full name before. Not that it mattered. Clearly he preferred Sherlock than his formal full name.

"By the power vested in my by the City of London and the United Kingdom, I pronounce these two to be Mr. and Doctor Holmes." The vicar said.

Mari looked up startled, but then her eyes misted and she blinked rapidly.

Sherlock smiled a little and then the vicar smiled at him. "You may kiss your bride, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock nodded and pulled his wife to him. It had a dual purpose. She was looking faint, but also to bring her closer. He kissed her mouth softly and pulled back looking at him. "Hello." He said. People were clapping in the background.

"How…how did you know my real name?"

"Your full name? It was quite easy. I was able to look at your driver's license while you slept." He smiled. "And I got some help in pronunciation from John since he has lived in Afghanistan." He closed his eyes. "The illuminated." He said. "But why do you go by Marion and not Miriam?"

"It is easier for my friends to say." She smiled laughing lightly through her tears. She pulled him down and kissed him again, but this time he straightened them both and snaked his arm about her. He was smiling too, the lines on his face showing.

Together they spoke to their guests and sipped champagne. Apple juice was poured for the lovely bride. She sipped it and ate the crackers and cheese provided. Sherlock stood looking out over the city. She looked behind her as the snow fell about the city. "It is beautiful."

ZzZ

The small group disbanded after many well wishes as the Eye capsule returned to earth. Sherlock called a cab. He pulled off his coat and offered it to his wife who was shivering a little in the snow. She looked at him startled. "But you will freeze."

"Hardly, my dear. You, however, are turning a frightful shade of blue." He touched her lip which was turning a bluish tinge.

She sighed and pulled the coat on. It nearly went to her ankles, but it was warm from his body heat and she wrapped it about herself looking up at the snow. It smelled deliciously like him as well and she snuggled in it a moment enjoying the feel of being safe and warm.

A large flake of snow landed on her nose and she giggled and looked up. She then opened her mouth and let the snow fall into her mouth.

"What on earth are you doing?" He asked watching her.

"Catching snow." She smiled. "It tastes sweet."

"With all the pollution in this city? I doubt that." He said watching her antics.

She looked back, snow had collected on her hijab and she smiled. "You certainly know how to show a girl a good time, Mr. Holmes."

He chuckled. The cab stopped before him and he opened the door. "Shall we retire, my dear?" He asked.

She looked at him and smiled before walking passed him and getting into the cab. He smiled and got in as well. Shutting the door he relaxed and looked at the cabbie. "221 B Baker Street." He said calmly.

She looked at him. "What about Dr. Watson and Mrs. Hudson?"

"I took the liberty of seeing Mrs. Hudson got to be at a hotel and she will have a full day at the spa tomorrow. As for John, he is going to see his sister as I recall." He said nonchalantly.

She looked at him and nodded. She looked up at the snow falling and smiled. "I do not think I have ever seen snow in September here."

"It is rare." He agreed looking up. "But it can happen." He smiled at her as she watched, captivated by the large flakes falling outside the window. "It will all melt before we get the snow that will come and stay for Christmas."

He relaxed reaching for his cell phone to look at the weather and news before he turned his phone off for the evening. His free hand dropped and rested on her thigh. Her skin was bare there and his hand was just below the place where the linear bruise was.

They arrived at the home. He got out and walked around opening the door for his wife as she stepped out into the cold again. He paid the driver and then walked to the door. One order of business was to get his new bride her own key. He opened the door and she stepped in, knocking the snow from her shoes. He did likewise and he watched her move up the stairs after removing them. He had taken note of her round bottom as she had dropped to removed them.

Barefoot she paused on the landing. "I am going to take a shower to warm up." She said.

He looked up at her smiling playfully. "Do try not to use All the hot water darling."

She shook her head and laughed tossing something at him as he came up the stairs after her. He caught the fabric in his fingers and watched her retreating form as she dropped his coat down on the chair and was unzipping the back of the dress as she went.

He opened his palm and looked at the bit of cloth and held it up as he came into the light of the room where the fireplace cracked. John had seen that done before he had left for his sister's house. What would Sherlock do without him…? He then focused again on the cloth.

She swallowed hard. They were her panties. The little minx had thrown her panties at him and they were still warm from her body. Groaning he shook his head and set them down realizing she had gotten her desired rise out of him.

He leaned down and lifted his violin and began to play a soft tune as he looked out the window. He did not notice until her small hands were on his arms lightly and her body was pressed to him that he realized she was there. She did not constrict his playing at all. He felt her warmth against his back as she pressed her forward to his shoulder blade.

He paused a moment to look back over his shoulder at her hair that looked like molten copper in the firelight. She stepped around him and he realized she was wearing his dressing gown and nothing else.

He looked at her a moment and then she looked at the violin. She touched the strings delicately. "Can you teach me?" She asked softly. Her voice was soft like a prayer. He sighed realizing she was curious and want to learn.

He smiled a little and turned her in his embrace. He pressed the chin rest under her chin. He gently took her fingers and arranged them and placed them on the fingerboard. Holding his fingers around hers he then lifted the bow and gently formed her hand over it. Her hand on the bow, he moved it over the strings moving her fingers on the fingerboard by pressing them.

He did a combination three times and then let his hands drop watching her. She nibbled her lip and drew the bow moving her fingers on the board as he stood behind her, breathing in her scent and listening as she hesitantly played the chords. She was doing very well. She repeated them a second time and his hands grazed up from her waist, up her sides to her shoulders. He brushed her hair aside and pressed his lips to her ear.

"I could ravish you here." He murmured and she shivered and he took her ear between his teeth, lightly, playfully.

"How am I to learn if you keep distracting me?" She asked trying to play a chord and she drew too quickly as his hand shifted to cup her breast even as he licked her ear.

"Oh the things I could teach you." He murmured.

"Sherlock keep it up and I will drop this." She gasped her head dropping back and his lips on her throat.

"Well we can't have that can we?" he whispered taking it from her and setting it down as she turned to him.

She let the dressing gown fall and pool at her feet as she looked up at him smiling playfully. "Now what things are you planning to teach me, husband?"

"A great many things." He said looking at her, his green eyes narrowing with arousal.

"Is that a threat?"

"No it is a promise." He said dipping down and lifting her in his arms and charging for the bedroom. She let out a cry of surprise and then smiled as he kissed her. As he crossed the threshold into his room, his lips moved to the base of her ear, a very sensitive spot and she gasped.

"Oh Sherlock…" She whispered.


	4. Getting to Know You

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 4 – Getting to Know You

Sherlock woke.

Something was playing with his hair. He reached up and found it wasn't something, but someone. He opened his eyes and looked up at Mari as she idly played with his mop of dark curls.

He turned to look up at her. "What on earth are you doing?" He asked.

"Seeing how long it took for you to wake up." She smiled.

"Are you trying to annoy me?"

"No." She smiled. "I am hungry." She said looking at him. "Take your wife for brunch."

"Brunch it isn't even…"

"It is eleven-thirty husband."

He blinked the rest of the cobwebs from his mind as he sat up. He looked back at her as she lay in her side, watching him. He then looked at the clock. It was nearly noon. He never slept that late. He sighed, but then he had not been engaged in his honeymoon until the wee hours most days either.

When they had woken sometime around two from their first couple of rounds, she had grabbed a snack of juice and crackers. He then set up a chess board and they played for several hours. She was not easily beaten, which he was happy with.

They had collapsed in a pile of limbs, lips, and groans after and he could remember little else until he had woken. He looked at her as she rose to her feet. She turned and in the light he caught a look at something.

He rose to his feet and blinked. She looked at him startled and he turned her face gently more to the light. She had a slight and small discoloration to her skin. "Melasma." He said looking at her like he was inspecting a corpse.

She pulled his hand away. "What?"

"The mask of pregnancy." He said looking at her. He shook his head. "Come now, let us get dressed and I will feed you. God knows you two both need it. You must be half starved."

"I won't go that far." She said rolling her eyes as she looked down and saw a suitcase. "What is this doing here?"

"John and Mrs. Hudson packed up a bag for a couple days."

"Oh the museum. I need to call them and…"

"Already been taken care of. Dr. Jefferies says congratulations and hopes you are in good health as I recall."

"You told him I was pregnant?"

"Yes, but he had the idea on his own since he had watched you run to the toilet at least twice."

"Could have been food poisoning."

"But it wasn't was it." He said buttoning his shirt. He wore a shirt that was dark blue and he buttoned up the last button. He watched his wife as she dressed. She was fairly quick about it for a woman, already in comfortable pants and a loose blouse over her bra. She flipped her long hair forward over her face and brushed it in firm strokes to remove the tangles, many of which undoubtedly came from him playing with it as he made love to her. He would never be bored of the feel of her hair in his fingers.

He watched her as she brushed it out making it look like a living thing. She was anything, but boring especially in the bedroom. Holding his attention for long was difficult, but he was certain that she would.

She lifted her head and flicked her hair backwards over her shoulders and back like a pool. She then quickly grabbed a hair tie and held it in her teeth and moved to braid her hair and he rolled his eyes. He stepped forward and quickly pushed her hands away. He was tired of waiting.

His nimble fingers quickly French braided her hair with apparent ease. She was startled and he then lifted his hand expectantly. She blinked and he rolled his eyes and reached forward taking hold of the tie.

She released it from her lips and quickly tied off the braid. He looked at his work and smiled. "Why do you never have your hair lose?" He asked.

"I do not like it that way unless it is time for bed." She said. She reached back and coiled the end of the braid into a bun at the back of her head and pinned it there. She then lifted her wedding hijab. It was far too formal for this outing, but she did not have another here, something Mrs. Hudson would not be trained to look for.

He looked at her and cocked his head. "Why on earth do you insist on wearing that thing?" He asked.

He actually liked her hair when it was loose about her shoulders. It made her look younger and added to her overall beauty. He even had to admit he had done well in that department.

"I like it. I grew up with it and I feel naked in public without it." She said looking at him. "I am Muslim still in name if not fully in practice."

"Married in an Anglican ceremony to an agnostic man." He said. "This one is pretty, I have to admit it." He said inspecting it. He often looked at them from his height towering over her. "Still, do you not find them confining in some regard? Archaic?"

"I embroidered it." She said. "Perhaps it is that I am sentimental about my childhood."

He shook his head and made a face.

She laughed. "Do you know when you have that look your brow scrunches up, all right here." She pressed her thumb to his brow, right above his nose. "Hope your face never freezes like that."

He shook his head. "So the bakery downstairs then?" He asked.

"I think that would be lovely. I heard rumor of chocolate croissants." She said.

They walked into the bakery and had a lovely breakfast. She ate more than him, but he made no mention of it. She was carrying his child and he would see her happy and well fed. They spoke about living at Baker Street.

After they walked back upstairs together. Once at the top of the stairs he pulled her to him and kissed her. She was breathless when he pulled back. He looked at her. "I need a cigarette." He said turning away to look around his house.

"Don't you dare." She hissed.

Ha paused. "What?"

"I will tolerate the drug patches you favor, but I am highly allergic to cigarette smoke and I cannot be near it pregnant."

"Oh?" He asked. "It helps me think."

"What thinking? You are on a honeymoon."

"I well yes, but I…"

"Besides I can take your mind off that trivial need."

"Oh?" He asked. He was intrigued by that notion. He sat down in the chair looking at her. "How?" He asked shivering a little.

She reached beyond him and lifted a cigarette and a patch. "One you will see, the other not."

He blinked. He lifted his hand up. At first he went for the cigarette, like an old friend, but then he took the patch.

She smiled. "Good boy." She said tossing the cigarette to the side as he rolled up his sleeve and put the patch on his forearm.

He sighed and then gasped as she slithered into his lap and kissed him deeply. She pulled back pulling his lip with her teeth, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention. He blinked at her as she moved downwards and smirked a little as he realized her intention.

Again he was intrigued. No woman had ever done that to him and he had heard rumor it was most enjoyable.

His thoughts began to wonder as she unbuttoned his shirt as she worked downward, kissing the pale exposed flesh that rippled under her ministrations. His hand lifted to her head finding it a natural position as she moved lower.

She looked up at him, dark eyes swirling as she licked her lips wolfishly.

God help him…

ZzZ

Sherlock shook his head as he looked up. His wife stood up from him. He looked up at her in a daze for a moment. She was right. So now all he needed when he craved a cigarette was to have her go down on him and perform fellatio on him. He was fairly certain that would never happen in a public arena.

He calmed his breathing as she smiled at him as she sipped from a water glass she had retrieved.

He sat up straighter and sighed. "Well that was…most enjoyable." He said looking at her with his green eyes.

She chuckled. "Glad you thought so." She moved to walk by him. "I am going to take a bath. I need to shave." She said.

He caught her arm, startling her. "Wait a second." He said. He rose to his feet and gently rubbed his thumb against the corner of her lip. "You missed a spot." He murmured looking at his own bodily fluid on his finger tip.

"Oh clumsy me." She said smiling, oh that smirk made him annoyed and wanting all at the same time. He wondered how long it would be before made love to her on every surface of this flat. It would not long if she kept giving him that look.

She leaned forward and licked the offending off white liquid away and smiled coyly as she moved to fetch her bag. He put himself back together fighting the urge to grab her and have his wicked way with her in the naughtiest way he could think of. She came back out and he coughed a little and moved to the window to look out at something, anything other than her. If he looked at her, she would never make it to her bath.

She was there for some time.

He busied himself looking at things on the internet. He was bored, but he needed to remain here. He suspected if he went looking for a case she would be most upset and there was always tomorrow. He read the news.

She appeared wearing his dressing gown again and she walked by quietly into the room and was nearly to the bedroom when he spoke without looking up. "Are you feeling better?" He asked.

"Yes."

"I meant the bruises. They are no doubt painful, despite you trying to hide them."

"What do you mean?" She asked folding her arms over her ample chest.

He rose to his feet and turned quickly surprising her. "You know what I do and yet you are surprised." He lifted a hand and pressed it to her right thigh. She gritted her teeth a little. It was not the one that hurt her the most. He then pushed with his palm against her hands. She tumbled backwards into the chair and she hissed in pain. She sat up glaring at him, her eyes rimmed with tears from pain.

"Why did you do that?"

"I know you are bruised there." He said. "I saw the beginnings of it last night. Should be nice and purple now." He said. He looked at her. "I think you should not do Krav Maga anymore."

"I could have done it belly dancing."

"On what, your friend's head piece."

"She had a sword."

"That could explain the bruise to your thigh, but not the one on your chest." He continued. "However, a sword blade, even the back would be too narrow for the bruise. It was a staff or something blunt."

She sighed and nodded. "Yes. Bound to happen facing two at the same time. Sharpens your skills though and your awareness." She tried to smile, but his eyes narrowed at her.

He dipped forward and opened the dressing gown looking at the bruise. It was the size of his hand. "This one looks more like a foot."

"Yes. Jorie kicked me. What of it?" She asked. "I didn't block it. My mistake."

He growled and placed his hands on either side of the chair, his face suddenly very serious and almost violent as she sparked his temper. "You have bruises on your body that are pale yellow. You are often hit by objects. Most are linear so I suspect fencing." He hissed leaning forward, spearing her with his gaze. "A kick to your belly could cause harm to the baby or even you if it hits an organ. I will not have you play such dangerous games." He looked at her. A hand lifted to her chin. "Are we clear on this?"

She shivered. She had never seen him so intense. "All right." She whispered.

"Good." He said stepping back from her.

ZzZ

Mari stepped out of the museum building. She was tired, in need of food, and a good rub down. She smiled a little. She was sure she could mend two of the three. She had been married a week. Sherlock Holmes had alternately demanded she be there or leave his personal space depending on what he was doing. On a case he could be very fussy, but John Watson had told her to bear with him.

She liked John. He was open, honest, and gentle. He looked after her welfare and made sure she was eating properly. It was quite nice having an in house medical doctor. He liked the thrill of the case as much as Holmes, but in another way.

She sighed and felt rain on her cheek. She reached into her bag to find her umbrella when she found herself under one. She looked up at a man looking down at her. He was large and black, but smiled kindly.

"Hello, thank you. I need to find a cab." She said.

"No need, Mrs. Holmes. We already have one for you."

She arched an eyebrow. "I think I would rather find one of my own, thank you."

"We insist." Another man said coming forward.

She blinked. "On whose authority?"

One lifted a badge. "The government."

She took a breath. "Very well." She moved to the car, the man followed her holding the umbrella up. She sat down and then looked up. "And it is Doctor Holmes, thank you."

"Apologies." The black man said. He shut the door and then the car started to drive. She looked about and sighed.

At least they were kind kidnappers. She relaxed, but was seated like a coiled spring. At last they stopped outside what looked like a warehouse. Two men opened the door and she rolled out snapping to her feet. She was barefooted, but couched, ready to fight.

"If you would come with us, Mrs. Holmes." One said.

"It is doctor and not until I know why…" she hissed.

One man charged her. She ducked and sent him sprawling. The other took after her. She went high this time leaping over him as he went low, but she kicked downwards, hitting his back. Again the both tried to grab her. She gave one a broken rib for his trouble and the second she broke his foot. She stepped away, but the first man aimed a blow. She dodged it, but the second caught her full in the face. She took the blow and staggered back a bit as blood came to her lip and nose. She wiped it on the back of her hand.

She panted and looked at them. They pulled themselves to their feet.

"Why won't you give up bitch?" The first asked.

"I do not give up. Did you boss forget to mention I have three black belts?" She asked. "I can take a hit." She said spitting blood from her mouth.

The pair charged and she lifted up catching one square in the face with her palm under his chin, knocking him out cold, and the other got a crack to the back of his skull from her foot. The second man growled and whirled. "I don't care what the boss says. I am gonna add to the blood."

"At your own risk." She said backing up. She was dripping wet, ignoring her possible broken nose, as she circled him.

"Enough!" A bark came from inside the warehouse.

The man straightened and backed down. Mari stood up as well as the man walked forward. He wore a pin striped suit and held an umbrella.

"Who are you?"

"In a moment. For now, let us get you out of this dreadful weather, Doctor Holmes." He said gently. He lifted a handkerchief from his pocket. It was folded and starched, but clean. She took a breath and took it. She pressed it to the blood coming from her face.

She knew her face was bruising and she was starting to feel the pain. She walked with the man inside.

He opened the door to a room. "Please."

She sighed and walked in. "I suppose you are from the government as well."

"Yes." He nodded. "That looks rather bad. Should I call you an ambulance, Marion?"

"Oh already on first names now are we?" She asked. "Would help if I knew yours." She said. She then sighed looking at the blood soaked handkerchief. "You man may need one though."

"Indeed. I was not expecting you to put up a fight. Dr. Watson never did."

"I have black belts with men who kidnapped me. What did you think I was going to do? Invite them for tea?"

"You are not bound, my dear for the reason that I am not the enemy."

"Oh so my friends kidnap me now."

"I had to see if you were as beautiful as the I have heard."

He sighed and poured her some tea. "Here sip this."

She took the cup looking at him suspiciously.

"My dear if I had wanted to poison you, I would have done so a week ago."

She nodded and then sipped the tea. "This is good."

"Her majesty's blend. I thought you would appreciate it."

"Now why am I here, Mr…"

"Oh. I am Mycroft." He smiled and sat down before her.

She shook her head and pressed the cloth to her nose once more. "All right. Now why am I here?" She repeated.

"Information. What has Sherlock Holmes been up to?" She looked at this man. He had the look of Sherlock, in a vague sense. Older, but the eyes were as clever and watchful.

"Busy with cases. I am sure you can read Dr. Watson's blog."

"Ah." He smiled disarmingly. "I will get to the point then. I have brought you here to speak to you about his erratic behavior."

"I beg your pardon?!" She asked looking up at the man.

"Oh, do not be alarmed, Doctor Holmes." He paused. " I am a friend. In fact, I am family." He smiled. He sat back. He was dressed well and had an umbrella leaning against his leg. She watched him. He was not a threat, at least not yet and she did not have much energy. Another problem with her pregnancy.

She sipped more tea before looking up at him. "Family?" She blinked. "My family is dead, sir."

"Ah, and what, pray tell, are you going to discuss with my wife?" Sherlock's voice asked as he came into the room from behind her.

She took a deep breath. He had followed her here. She blinked. She was not sure if she was offended or grateful. For the moment she had a little of both.

"Sherlock. You know him?" She asked suspiciously without looking at him.

"Of course, though apparently he needs some schooling in introductions." Sherlock said sitting to her side. "Do you not brother?"

"He is your brother?" She asked looking up at her husband.

"Yes, my dear. My name is Mycroft. Mycroft Holmes."

She nodded. "A pleasure." She gasped as Sherlock took her face in his hands and looked at the swelling and blood. His anger sparked as well as his worry. He knew better than to think that Mycroft would have beaten her and indeed would have ordered it. She was not a threat to him.

"What the hell happened, Mari?" He asked, his irritation with his brother becoming a faint spark as his concern for his wife flared to life. "Who did this?" He asked her. He pressed a hand to the blood on top of her lip. He rubbed it between his fingers. Her lifeblood flared something in him that was deeper than the sibling rivalry he had with his brother. He narrowed his eyes. He would have the man ripped limb from limb.

"A lackey." Mycroft said nonchalantly. "He will be dealt with I assure you." He chuckled. "She has laid out one of them. He will have at least a cracked rib, perhaps a broken jaw." He sighed watching his brother fret. He had never seen his brother care about any one so and it was interesting to watch, but he could also see Sherlock was angry, coiled, ready to strike like a viper at anything that annoyed him further. "It isn't even broken. She just has a fat lip and a broken blood vessel."

Sherlock shot him a look and found a towel that was clean nearby. He pressed it to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. She gasped in pain since it was bruising, but he clicked his tongue at her and held firmly. He needed to get the blood to stop. It wasn't even clotting well.

"So, Sherlock, when were you planning to introduce me to your charming bride?" Mycroft asked changing the subject as Sherlock looked his wife over for other injuries.

"When I felt she was ready." Sherlock said looking into the dark pools of his wife's eyes. She had tears in them. Her face ached, but she could feel what he was doing was helping, but her face would be bruised for a week or more.

"Was I premature then?" Mycroft asked.

"Perhaps." Sherlock said, his voice a growl.

"I have heard a rumor that she is carrying your child." Mycroft said looking at his fingernails as he changed the subject.

"For once rumors are correct." Sherlock said coolly, looking at his brother.

"Congratulations are in order then. I never thought you were the type to date, let alone have a wife and a child on the way." Mycroft said clapping his hands together.

"Surprising what can happen, eh, brother, but I am a little surprised myself."

"Well, I should let you boys chit-chat for a bit. I need to use the washroom." Marion said.

"Down the hall, second door to the left." Mycroft said.

She got up and moved to the washroom, her hand lifting as Sherlock moved to help her.

Once she was down the hall, Sherlock rounded on his brother. "You kidnapped your own sister-in-law and then you allow her to be beaten."

"To be fair she was the instigator of that." Mycroft said.

"I would have been too if someone had me get into a car and take me somewhere unknown."

"You are right. I should have told her up front of course." Mycroft said.

She came back touching her nose looking for more blood. She had clearly washed some of it away and splashed some cool water on herself. She walked in and sighed. "Oh you are still talking. I will wait out…"

"No, stay a moment, my dear sister-in-law." Mycroft said. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"You didn't." She said.

Mycroft rose to his feet and stepped to her. Sherlock was watching him like a hawk. Mycroft touched her arm. "If you ever need anything, just call, sweet sister." He said handing her his card before pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek away from the bruising.

She nodded and then stepped back.

"Marion. Go to the car and wait for me." Sherlock said.

She looked at him. "You aren't going to kill him are you?"

"Not this time, but I am seriously considering throttling him for the hurt he caused you."

"I am fine Sherlock, really. His man hits like a girl. My nose isn't broken. If he would have hit better it would be."

He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "That makes me feel so much better about the situation. To the car!" He barked and pointed.

She sighed and walked out the door and went to the car. She got into the passenger's seat and sat down. She pulled out her smart phone and sighed while she waited. The rain made a rather calming sound against the windows of the car and roof.

Inside, Mycroft then rounded on his brother. "Not one word. Not one word did I hear from you that you were dating, seeing women, or sleeping with them."

"It was a mistake." Sherlock said moving to wipe his hands free of his wife's blood. She had bled quite a bit and it worried him. He would have John look at her before he took her to the hospital. Maybe some pain meds and bed would be best.

"I would hardly call her a mistake. You could do worse for yourself. She is intelligent, beautiful, and can clearly keep up with you." Mycroft chuckled. "And she certainly is better than the men I brought."

"That is not hard to achieve."

"Now, now, not everyone can be as intelligent as us, little brother."

"She is my wife because of an error in judgment."

"You regret it?"

"Yes. I am not father material." Sherlock sighed.

"But you married her." Mycroft said. "We will soon have another Holmes in the world."

"Seemed like the correct thing to do. I can support her and the child." Then Sherlock chuckled. "God help the world with another Holmes."

"May it be a girl." Mycroft said.

"Why?"

"Because I would like a niece to spoil." Mycroft said. "And I need to work on my target practice for anyone who would try to harm her."

Sherlock shook his head. "That is if I haven't gotten him first."

Mycroft shook his head and then touched Sherlocks's arm. "Try to be kind to her. Women carrying children can be very…touchy."

"So can I…"

"This isn't about you." Mycroft hissed. "Do you know what she is carrying?"

"A baby, naturally." Sherlock said looking at his brother as though he had grown a second head.

"I meant the sex. Boy or girl." Mycroft said. "As I said I would like a niece."

"She has not told me and I did not go to her last medical appointment."

"Perhaps you should."

"I fathered the baby, I will help with the upkeep, and protect it and its mother, but I am hardly husband or father material." Sherlock said.

"Aren't you the least bit happy?"

"It is what can happen when you have sex. Unprotected sex. Really good unprotected sex."

"Just the thought makes me want to put a drill to my brain."

"Perhaps you should." Sherlock hissed at him. "Do the world a favor."

Mycroft shook his head. "Word of advice little brother. Don't refer to the baby as an accident. Especially within her earshot."

"But it was." Sherlock smirked. "The sex was worth it. At least that is what my brain tells me."

"Well I would hope so. Would need to be mind blowing for you to even think about it and distract you enough to repeat it."

Sherlock sighed. "She is beautiful." He said softly, almost wistfully.

"She will be touchy. Let her think it was all for the best. The further along she gets the more she will become moody."

"Something to look forward to." Sherlock shrugged. He walked out and rejoined his wife. He got into the car and looked at her as she leaned against the door. "Marion?" He asked softly.

Her eyes opened and she looked at him. "Oh you are here. Is Mycroft alive?"

"For the moment. Come let's get you home." He said taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles before he started the car.


	5. Business as Usual

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 5 – Business as Usual

It had taken the better part of a week for the swelling and bruising to go down on Mari Holmes' face. It had taken nearly that long to convince her husband that his brooding about it really was not necessary. He had an impulse to beat the holy hell out of the man who had done it, but she explained the fight and told him she would have rather taken that blow than the one that would have harmed her more. He was not comforted by that and he seemed protective now, asking where she was going when she went out different that her work schedule.

His caring was becoming stifling, but it was not fully his fault. He did not do things in half measure and he certainly had no idea what to do with her. He watched her face improve daily. John had helped by rubbing in an ointment she had gotten from her friend. When she refused to say what was in it, Sherlock had called the friend a Witch Doctor. However, it did help the bruising, even he had to admit.

She had moved into the flat fully with her husband and John. John had been very kind and helped her with her things. She did not have as much as the men did .Her household was mostly her business clothing, her artifacts, which she placed in storage at the museum, and her hijabs. John had carried in the heavy objects and she had sat finding places for her things. She set up her computer in her husband's small office needing a workspace as well.

Much of the other things were not needed so she boxed them up and stored them as well with the permission of her supervisor. She found herself in her new home and she felt like an outsider trying to make her way.

She cleaned on her days off and relaxed drinking tea and watching the weather. She was often in her own little world. Sherlock had come to terms or at least tolerated her clothing in his drawers, her coats in his racks, and his wife in his bed. Not that she was ever boring there, but it was an adjustment for him.

She walked into the room to find him playing his violin. His thin hips were encased in his slacks with his dress shirt of burgundy tucked into it as he played. He was also in the way. Gently, she reached out and put her hands on his hips and shifted him slightly. He didn't stop playing, but he turned to look at her, his green eyes showing annoyance, but it flashed concern as she passed, her shirt pulled back tight to her as she passed the chair and it caught revealing the small rounded area of her abdomen.

She moved to the kitchen and found a bagel to eat. She ate it and listened to the playing as she sat on the landing.

John found her there. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes." She smiled up at him as she finished. He offered a hand and she took it. She wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to be married to John Watson. John was a calm and collected doctor who respected her on a level Sherlock was yet to achieve.

However, she was madly in love with her husband and she took his small quirks and big quirks in stride. He did care for her. It was clear. He tolerated her far more than any other female he had encountered and yet there were times he needed to be away from her.

She accepted that. She went to yoga and belly dancing to get away from him and clear her head. He had not made too much protest knowing she needed an outlet somewhere otherwise she would go back to Krav Maga and fencing. The thought of her getting injured in that was too much for him to bear.

John moved to the table and began to work on his blog. He was working on the entry about Sherlock's marriage. He had asked permission of Mari before he started and was busy typing about it.

Sherlock paused and looked down reading quickly. "Why are you writing about my marriage?"

"People want to know you are human."

"You already write about cases I could not fully help. How much more human do I need to be?" Sherlock asked.

"Relax, darling. He just wants the world to know that you are taken."

"Why should that matter?"

She coughed a little and then lifted a letter that John had opened. It was pink and smelled of a rather strong perfume. She took a breath from her mouth and then read, "Mr. Holmes. I have been reading the blog from Dr. Watson. You seem extraordinary and you are so very handsome on the telly. Tell me are you free any time? Would you consider coffee? Tea? Marriage?" She looked up. "Shall I go on? She actually sounds fairly pretty. She might distract you for five minutes until you talked so far over her she left."

"You actually read those?" He asked.

"Of course. We all need out entertainments."

"Jealous?" He asked quirking an eyebrow.

"Of women throwing themselves at you? No. I know where you sleep." She smiled up at him.

He shook his head. "It is like you think I would never have an affair."

"Sherlock?!" John gasped.

Mari lifted her hand as her husband started to play again. "No, because you could not handle two women, the drama, and possibly two babies on the way."

He paused and looked back at her. "Point taken." He turned and looked back out the window.

She smiled and sat back to listen. John watched her a moment. Her hand went to her head as though it ached, but she said nothing. She took a deep breath letting the music calm her.

ZzZ

October 10 2010

She woke.

She looked about the room. She felt completely like a stranger, even now. This was her home now, and she could not feel more like an outsider. She sighed and looked at the ceiling, her body craving a few more moments in the covers where it was warm and comfortable. She did have to give that one to her husband. He had one of the best beds she had ever slept upon.

The swelling of her face had gone back to its original beauty with a small scar on her lip where the man's ring had caught. She was able to live with it and it was hardly noticeable. Well, hardly noticeable to anyone, but Sherlock who growled about it constantly.

She looked to her side. She was not surprised that her husband was no longer there. He more inhabited the same space she did rather than being a husband. Perhaps she was too romantic thinking as to what a husband should be. She shook her head. They were if anything like flatmates that shared a bed.

She was after all married to the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. A wonder, even she had to admit. She had not expected him to step-up, she had merely wished to inform him of her condition and then move on. However, he was determined to have her there, with him, safe, in his flat, where she felt like an alien. He even looked at her like one sometimes.

The night before had been as many since she had become acquainted with Sherlock Holmes. The man was as much a genius in bed as he was elsewhere and he was arrogant of the talent, and if she had to say so herself, rightfully so. She enjoyed her time with him. She wished he could be as warm and close elsewhere. He was often a cold personality, but when pleasing her between the sheets, she could not be happier. They had fallen asleep in a tangle of limbs that somehow he had climbed out of without waking her earlier.

She sat up and flinched as she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Perhaps she could just calm, relax, and breathe it away. She touched her face a moment taking a deep breath and then shook her head and ran to the wash area at a full run startling both male occupants in the common room as she bolted in her night dress and slammed the door shut before promptly falling to her knees and retching into the toilet.

Sherlock looked at John and shrugged. John took a breath feeling sorry for his wife. Morning sickness was hardly new, but the poor woman suffered from it horribly. Thankfully, it seemed to disappear when she had some toast in her belly and relaxed for a time.

After a few moments of heaving with nothing coming out she panted, leaning against the bowl as she recovered her breath. A soft cough made her look up through her watery eyes up at Dr. Watson, her husband's flatmate who regarded her calmly. He was holding a water glass and smiling tolerantly at her.

"Dr. Watson." She said, her cheeks flushing scarlet as she looked away and leaned up to flush the meager fluid that had come from her stomach down.

He stepped forward and shook his head. "Mari, I have told you, my name is John." He said gently as he watched her rise shakily to her feet. "Easy…not too quickly." He said softly. "You can sit back if you need more time." He watched her pale features a moment.

She nodded leaning against the sink for support a moment. He gently offered the water. She sipped it and spat it into the sink to rid herself of the taste of acid and bile. She then sipped the water slowly and took a deep breath. He touched her arm, reminding her he was there. She looked at him and nodded. "Thank you, John." She said with her soft accent.

He smiled and smiled kindly as he cocked his head. "Can I make you some toast?"

"That would be lovely. Let me go dress." She said softly.

He nodded. "I will start it."

"What is Sherlock doing?"

"Reading." He mused.

She nodded and walked out, still a little unsteady on her feet. She smiled a little at Sherlock as he looked up at her as she walked toward their bedroom, slowly, with hesitant steps. She was pale and she wobbled a little. Her hand went to her head as the other went to the table. That once completely missed and she gasped.

A hand slid to her waist and the other grasped her arm. She was not sure how he had moved so quickly, but the comforting scent of Sherlock's cologne mixed with his own unique odor made her smile a little as he steadied her. "Are you alright?" He asked gently in a very uncharacteristically quiet voice and comforting voice.

"Yes, thank you." She said, but he did not let go as she expected him to, in fact he held onto her and nodded. She allowed him to walk with her to the bedroom and then stepped away from him as he shut the door.

She was suddenly shy as he stood back regarding her as she reached for her dressing gown. He smirked as if amused by this and she looked down from his gaze. He sighed. "It is not like I have not seen you, Mari." He said. "We have been intimate…clearly…" He nodded to her belly. Reflexively, she put a hand there and looked up at him.

She winced and sighed going to collect some clothing. "I was going to take a shower." She said softly.

"I do not think that is a good idea. At least not while you are faint." He said.

She nodded. He had a point. "Perhaps after breakfast."

"Are you able to eat or are you still ill?"

"It comes and goes, but John has shown me toast helps ease the sickness."

He nodded and stood, arms folded watching her as she dressed. She was fully aware he was watching, but he appeared to be deep in thought. He was more than a foot taller than her elf like stature. His oddly attractive features made her long to have kind word or a gentle touch from him other than the bedroom. He was a very private person and it would take time to break into his hard shell.

He was a good man and had stepped up when she had come to him that rainy night to inform him that after only three dates and being in her bed all three times, she was pregnant by him. Instead of announcing it was her problem, as she had expected and so had John, he had offered his support and insisted on marriage so he did not appear to be an ogre.

It was not the most loving of relationships. In fact, there was not much love in it at all. It anything it was like two friends having sex and preparing for a baby to come. Oddly, she really could not even go that far since other than being protective she really had no idea what he was thinking about her.

It was hard to believe they had been married more than a month and she was three months along. She looked down. She was starting to show, but only undressed. It would be a few more weeks before she could no longer hide her condition. She sighed pausing to touch the small swell of her belly before continuing to pull on loose pants, a nice blouse, and a vest. It was cool in the flat and she was often cold, which when against everything she had read.

Once dressed, she pulled stockings onto her feet while sitting on the bed, which she had made while moving about the room, and then rose to her feet, too quickly. Her vision faded and her knees buckled as she gasped. She reached out for anything to catch herself. The bed was right behind her and she whimpered trying to step backwards to it.

She did not fall, however. Sherlock caught her to him, holding her gently, looking at her face as her vision swam a few more moments. She closed her eyes and then blinked, looking up at him. One of his massive hands cradled her head in his palm as the other held her to him. His concern for her was touching, but then his cold nature came out as he straightened and swung her into his arms, an arm around her back and the other under her knees. His large hands held her side and her thigh as he stood to his full height with her nestled like a child in his embrace. She always felt so small next to him and she looked up at his thin features.

"We need to stop meeting like this." He said. She sighed. True enough. The first time they had met she had locked her knees and fallen into his arms. The second time was when she had come exhausted, cold, hungry, and soaking wet after soul searching on whether to come to him. Now this. She hated feeling like a hapless female. Surely he was starting to regard her as such too, but then again he knew she was worth something. He had spent hours speaking to her over wine about nothing and everything. She had been surprised how open he could be, but perhaps that was only because of the drink.

"Sherlock, I can walk…" She protested. She laid a hand on his chest, feeling his warmth, reveling in it. She snuggled closer to him. She closed her eyes a moment relaxing knowing there was little she could do at this moment.

"Clearly, you are mistaken." He said. He carried her to the common room with ease and set her in a chair. She sighed and then looked up as Sherlock reclaimed his chair as John poured her some herbal tea he had made and placed some buttered toast before her.

She thanked him softly and then ate slowly. She felt useless, but John's upbeat attitude helped her soldier on. After all he had known Holmes for nearly six years longer than she had. Sherlock could be downright cold and rude to her, but she tolerated it, wanting to make the marriage work for them and the unborn in her belly they had made together.

She looked up and sighed. "I have to be to the museum soon." She muttered seeing the clock.

"You are in no condition to drive." Sherlock said looking at her, his eyes spearing her. He leaned forward. "Do you have your phone? I need to text someone." She sighed and lifted it. His was likely somewhere in the bedroom. He busily started to type a message, knowing her password. She had given up trying to keep him from her phone and she had nothing to hide.

"I must. I have work to do and the new exhibit to finish this week." She sighed. "I feel better now."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he looked up after finishing his message. "You would do well taking a day to relax."

"And be bored. No thank you, Mr. Holmes. I am well enough." She said. "I am pregnant, not made of glass."

He snorted. "And hence you are in my living space." He said rising to his feet making it clear that was the only reason he tolerated a female there in his sanctuary.

She shook her head and lifted her hand as John looked ready to speak. He clamped his mouth shut and sighed. He nodded to her and spoke then, calmer. "I can drive her. I need to get groceries anyway."

"Oh, good. I need some more cream and some of that delightful tea." Sherlock said without looking up.

"Very well." John smiled. "Are you nearly ready dear?"

"I need to shower first."

"Go ahead. I am not in a hurry." He said gently.

She smiled and rose to her feet. Her earlier syncope seemed to have disappeared. She showered allowing the warm water to fall down her shoulders. She shampooed her long red auburn hair and then after washing it out she stood a moment, looking down at her once flat belly that now had a small, but distinctive bulge. She caressed it and shook her head. She turned her head a little hearing the door open. She turned off the water and reached for the toweling pulling it behind the curtain wondering which of the men who lived with her had come in. Not that Dr. Watson had not seen her naked before. He had examined her when she first fainted and did a pregnancy test, suspecting it was the reason for her faintness.

"Sorry I am not done yet, I just…" She wrapped the towel about herself and froze.

"I was checking on your welfare…wife." Sherlock's rich voice interrupted her from the other side of the curtain.

She sighed stepped out looking up at his immaculately dressed form. His curly dark hair was in ripples on his head, but it fit him as he looked at her. She sighed and dressed wondering if he was going to leave, but he did not. He stepped forward catching her off guard as she finished pulling on a skirt and was pulling a bra up, his large cool hand engulfed her belly. She looked down at his hand and then up at him. She smiled a little enjoying the tender touch.

He shook his head and stepped back. "You are showing more than before. I was curious if I could feel it move." He offered for the explanation for invading her personal space. Not that she minded. Sherlock and John Watson were the only two she did not take exception to doing that and John did it as a friend and as a doctor. Sherlock at times could have the gentleness of a lover. This was one of those times, but then as fleetingly as it had started, it was over.

"I cannot so I doubt you could." She said finishing strapping her bra into place.

"Did you know your breasts are larger and darker?" He asked. "And you hand a line from your belly button down." He traced it causing her to shiver.

"Yes. They are actually quite tender." She said. She pulled on her blouse and then reached for her hair brush. She did her hair in a thick braid before wrapping it into a thick bun. Over this she pulled her hijab that matched the business suit she wore perfectly.

He nodded and stepped out as she brushed her teeth. Once she was ready she claimed her bag. Sherlock was looking out over the street as John gathered his things.

She went to her husband and touched his arm gently. "Have a good day, husband." She offered trying to be warm to him, even if he was not.

"You as well." He answered looking down at her.

She turned her face up to him expectantly. He looked at her a moment in non-comprehension and then she sighed and leaned up to him, wrapping a hand about his neck, she pulled him down to her, startling him. He stiffened at this, hands spreading wide, and she shook her head and planted a kissed to his lips and then his cheek. She smiled and he seemed to realize what she wanted and pressed a soft peck to her cheek.

She smiled and then walked to the door with John Watson behind her. She got into his car and relaxed.

"How are you feeling? Truly?" John asked as he started the car.

"Tired, but alright. I wish Sherlock would be more welcoming."

"Give him time. This was rather jumped on him." John said. "We are all three making adjustments."

She nodded. "I do not offend being in your home do I?"

"Hardly." He smiled. "If anything you are a nice breath of fresh air for us, Mari."

She smiled as they came to a light and leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you John."

"For what?"

"For making me feel better."

He nodded.

She was dropped off exactly on time. She bid farewell to her flatmate and then turned, walking up the stairs into the museum. She sighed. Today was another day.

ZzZ

Marion returned home by tube. The stop for her was a block away from the Baker Street home and she lifted the box she had and stepped out. A man let her pass and she offered a smile at him as she continued.

She was carrying a file box and walked up the flights of stairs. She unlocked the door, holding the file container on her hip. John had graciously given her a key to the house and the flat when her husband kept forgetting. Thankfully, Mrs. Hudson was almost always there to let her in before. Today, she was grateful for the key. There had been a cold snap. No snow, but it was chilled outside.

She walked in and there was silence. For a moment she thought she was alone.

She was wrong.

She reached the landing and sighed looking about. Something smelled, different there. It wasn't a bad smell. In fact it was making her hungry, but she had learned the last time she had smelled something good there she should not trust it. Sherlock liked to experiment.

"Mari. What in heaven's name are you doing? You should not be lifting." Sherlock was at her side, taking the box. He dipped his head, looking into her face as if checking her over for signs of stress. He looked at the box. "This has to be at least twenty pounds. Why did you not call?"

"Would you have answered?"

"I…well…"

She shook her head and then tried to take it from him. "I am fine."

He refused and she shook her head and dropped onto the couch and removed her shoes, her poor feet aching from being on them much of the day. She rubbed the tops as she shut her eyes. "What were you doing all day?" She asked.

"Working on a case." Came John's voice. "Hello, dear, how are you feeling?" He asked gently as he came into view.

"I have been worse." She said pressing a hand to her brow to wipe it. "What is there in the fridge?"

"To eat? Loads. I went shopping." John said cheerfully.

Sherlock hissed as he looked at a computer screen.

She nodded and lifted herself to her feet, walking passed Sherlock who was watching her as she went to the fridge and pulled out some milk. She poured a glass and then found some crackers and cheese. She walked out with her plate and sat down regarding the pair.

Sherlock looked up at her. "Could you shut-up? People are trying to think here." He growled.

She paused eating a cracker. Her eyes flicked to John who lifted a hand and she shook her head. After her long day she could not take that. She shook her head and rose to her feet.

"Mari…Mari!" John protested rising to his feet. Sherlock was rubbing his temples and growled something incoherent.

Mari shook her head and walked down the stairs to see Mrs. Hudson. She knew at least the older lady would be more fit company and she was fighting back tears. She felt silly for weeping over this, but then her nerves were not her own at this moment. She refused to let Sherlock see them, however.

John followed her. She heard him. She made it to the bottom of the stairs and took a shaky breath before she inhaled and the tears came. She bit back the sob, but John still heard it and looked down. She went to Mrs. Hudson's flat and knocked.

Mrs. Hudson opened the door and saw the weeping lady before her and gasped. "Oh come here, love." She whispered pulling Mari into a hug and into her home. John looked upwards as he heard the sobbing start fully and sighed.

The poor thing just wanted to have a sense of belonging here, not be an outsider. He could hear Mari's sobbing grow softer as Mrs. Hudson took her in hand.

John turned back. "You need to go apologize."

"For what, exactly?" Sherlock asked looking up.

"She is really hurt you know."

"For telling her to shut-up? I tell everyone that when I am thinking."

"She is pregnant."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me. It is tedious enough having you both around." He paused. "And occasionally it is rather unnerving."

"Are you seriously going to be this unfeeling toward her?"

"What?" Sherlock looked up.

"She is down there, weeping her eyes out because you shouted at her." John looked at him. "Women are sensitive anyway and you add hormones…"

"I don't want to be near her while she is crying." Sherlock said watching John. "How on earth is she so offended and more how are you offended?"

John shook his head. "You aren't even going to try."

"Try what?"

"To make your marriage a happy one?"

"She is here, in my protection, what more would she need?"

John shook his head and reached for his coat. "Even you can't be that dense."

"Pardon?" Sherlock looked at him startled. "Where are you going?"

"Out." John snapped over his shoulder as he went down the stairs and opened the front door. He slammed it shut behind him.

Sherlock looked after him. What on earth had just happened? He needed John to bounce ideas off him. Why did he just leave? And where was Mari?

He lifted his phone. He sighed and started to text. _Mari? Where are you? You were just here. SH_

There was a long silence before his phone chirped. He looked down and blinked at the message. _Piss off, Mr. Holmes. _

He sat back. What the hell?

_Pardon? SH_

There was no reply.


	6. What Goes Around Comes Around

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 6 – What Goes Around Comes Around

It was after dark when Sherlock noticed his wife had come back. John had come back much sooner. John had at least spoken to him. Mrs. Hudson had come upstairs to fetch the laundry and a few other things. Sherlock had heard her and paid her no mind.

Sherlock heard his wife before he saw her. He watched her. She had ear buds in her ears and was carrying a laundry basket on her hip. All the laundry had been carefully pressed and folded, but noticed it was not all his laundry. Half of it was his wife's.

He was about to move toward her, but he looked at her. Her face was expressionless as she carried the basket into the room. He could clearly hear it. He looked at John. "What the hell is she listening to?"

"Knowing her? Likely French death metal or Rammstein." He said.

"What?" Sherlock looked toward the open door. "How is she not deaf?"

"Likely drowning out the noise she hears."

"What noise?"

"People telling her to shut-up and so forth." John said looking at him.

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest and then clapped it shut. He sighed and walked into the room. She was putting his slacks and socks in the right drawers. She then set about hanging his other shirts up. He leaned against the wall watching her. He knew full well she knew he was there.

"Mari…do you think you could turn that down before you lose your ability to hear?" He asked.

She paused as she lifted a blouse of her own, lifting her phone from her pocket. A second later she put it back in her pocket and continued.

His phone chimed. _What do you want? _

He shook his head. _Your attention for starters. SH_

She finished with the clothing and wiped her brow and looked at his message. He was not sure how she heard it chime. She glared at the phone. _You have it or at least as much as I am going to give you. _

_Why are you texting and not speaking? I am five feet away from you. SH_

_Oh you want me to talk now. Several hours ago I could not even eat without it bothering you. _Her eyes looked up at him as she moved toward him. She remained silent, the look of anger made him ache a little. He was utterly unused to be called on his wrong doing. She dropped the basket at his feet where it went and straightened. She wiped her brow again and lifted her Mp3 player and changed to another song.

He winced. He could hear the words. He did not understand many of them.

_That was silly of me. I am sorry. Forgive me. I didn't think you would take them so hard. I wasn't really walking to you. SH _

She read and snorted as her eyes narrowed. _There are times when you are like a child. You should think about your words before you say them Mr. Holmes. _ She clicked send looking up at him, her eyes narrowed as she walked passed him.

He took a deep breath and read the text as he watched her retreating form. He had apologized. That in itself was odd for him. He could not understand why she was still angry with him. She leaned down and paused her music a moment. She leaned down and spoke to John and then walked toward the steps.

John sighed as he took the Mp3 player and pulled it into his laptop. Sherlock walked out of the room, his brow furrowed. He would never understand women and this one especially. He sighed and looked at John.

"What did she say?"

"She was thinking to go out."

Sherlock hissed. "I need to speak to her."

"I would wait until she is done being angry."

"Well how long will that take?"

"Who knows she is a woman." John shrugged.

The door opened and shut and Sherlock rolled his eyes and lifted his violin.

ZzZ

It was around midnight when she returned.

He had sent several texts. He looked at his phone as though he wanted a reply, but none came. She was ignoring him. Frankly it unnerved him. He of course ignored people at times, but God help him. His wife ignoring him when she was upset, alone, and away from him was more than he could take. He looked down again and read his texts.

_Where are you going? SH_

_Are you alright? You have not answered? SH_

_Mrs. Hudson made some lovely stew. You should come home. We cannot possibly eat it all. SH_

_Mari. Please Answer me. I am starting to worry. SH_

Nothing. However, she had sent a text to John informing him she would be home late. Sherlock had accepted that, for now, as answer enough. She needed space. He could accept it. At least for a little while…

Sherlock was sitting in the chair idly strumming his violin waiting for her. She walked up the stairs and let out a slow breath seeing him there. His eyes lifted to look at her. The fireplace snapped as they looked at each other in silence a moment.

She then shook her head and turned to hang up her coat. Her eyes were still red rimmed from crying much of the day. However, as she walked he noticed her hand go to her belly in a soft gesture. She walked into the bedroom at dropped to the bed.

He followed her, putting his violin down. He looked at her as she uncoiled her hair after removing her hijab. Loose it hung about her shoulders and he itched to touch it. He came to her. He needed to be forgiven. He did not totally understand his offense, but he needed to hear her forgive him for it. He felt utterly lost as he came to her as she brushed the thick locks out.

In his dress shirt and not his suit jacket, he knelt before her looking up at her, waiting for her to acknowledge him. Her hand slowed and she looked and then down, startled he was on the floor before her.

"What…?"

"Mari…" He whispered her name like a prayer. "Habibti." He said softly a hand lifting to her delicate cheek. His hand was warm, the long fingers gently against her.

Her eyes closed a moment and then she leaned against his palm. He had never called her anything close to that. Never, not once. Now he was calling her sweetheart in Arabic. He had to have researched it.

"I am fine, Sherlock." She said. She sounded utterly exhausted. He swallowed and looked up at her unsure what to do. She smiled a little. He was completely helpless and at her mercy. Something he was utterly not used to at all. He was baring part of his soul and she leaned forward to kiss his nose gently.

"I…I was worried." He offered really unsure what to say. He had never, not once been in the position he was in now. He looked up at her, his eyes rimmed a little with exhaustion and pain.

She touched his cheek lightly. "I am fine Sherlock."

"You didn't answer my texts. I had no idea where you were…"

"Hush. I am here now." She looked at him. She realized then. If anything happened to her, it could very well break him. She gently wrapped her fingers around his neck. She leaned closer and kissed him her hands working up into his curly hair.

She giggled and tumbled into his arms. He reached back to catch himself and gave up, laying down, his wife in his arms as they kissed deeply, his hands wondering her back. He reached up and over, shutting the door with a click as he turned to look at it.

Her hand turned his head back to her as she searched his face. He caressed hers and kissed her, sitting up, bringing her with him. He shifted her so her legs were to either side of his hips, his hands were on her bottom, holding her to him as her hands rested on his shoulders. He looked up at her as he tucked his legs under her and smiled.

"You know, I am starting to get used to having a home life. I really like coming home to you." He smiled as he tucked a loose lock of hair back.

She smiled. "I accept that for an apology." She said and kissed him deeply.

He smiled a little as his hands worked to pull her blouse from her skirt. "By the by, wife. Did you know I have heard a delicious rumor?" He said looking at her his green eyes narrowing with arousal.

She giggled as his warm hands began to wonder and work at her clothing. "And what is that, Mr. Holmes?"

"That make-up sex is the best you can have."

She laughed as he looked at her hungrily and shifted her gently to the soft rub they were seated on.

ZzZ

December 1 2010

Marion pulled the cookies out of the oven. She had made a dozen for the cookie exchange she was going to be on. It was nearing Christmas, only twenty-five days to go. The first snow that had fallen and stayed for more than a day had fallen two days ago. Her belly was larger now and she no longer could hide her condition, so she embraced it, wearing clothing that did nothing to hide, but rather made it clear she was in a tasteful way.

She put the cookies on the counter and turned off the oven. She was quite proud of herself. The party would be nice to be with female friends, something Sherlock distained, but had accepted her going to provided she made him a couple extra cookies.

She rubbed a hand over her brow. She was very warm. She smiled looking at the cookies as she moved to start making the frosting. She touched her finger to it. It was good frosting. She smiled. Sherlock would love these cookies. A hint of champagne and cinnamon. She smiled. For a man who did not eat much, he loved his sweets.

They had grown closer, at least somewhat in the couple months they had been together. Now at five months along, he seemed more protective of her, not wanting her to be on her own. However, he had also learned to allow her the time with her own friends. She needed to deflate at times and he understood that now after their long talk that night she had returned to him after their row. He still could be somewhat cold and unfeeling, but he was a good man and was at least trying to make an effort to be a good husband, even if he really had no idea how.

She took a step back suddenly feeling a little faint. She pressed a hand to her sweaty brow and felt suddenly very warm. She went to the sink and splashed water on herself, but then felt like ice. She blinked. What the hell?

She fell, dropping to floor in a heap, her head being cut on the way down. She lay motionless on her side on the floor.

She was in a pool of her own sticky blood when Mrs. Hudson and John Watson arrived from shopping.

"Mari, I saw your car, where are you?" John asked looking about the flat. "The cookies look amazing, might I steal one?" He teased.

Mrs. Hudson then let out a shriek and dropped down in the kitchen. "Marion!"

John moved quickly to her, kneeling beside Mari. The blood was a lot, but then head wounds bled terribly. "Mari, sweetheart, can you hear me?" He gently tapped her face. He then looked up at Mrs. Hudson. "Can you fetch my bag?" He asked, his fingers to Mari's neck.

There was a pulse and she was breathing, but her breaths were shallow. He shook his head a little lifting her sticky hair up to look at the wound by her temple. He looked up and saw the corner of the counter had blood and red hair stuck to it.

She nodded and brought it. He pulled out his stethoscope and pressed it to her chest and then her abdomen. "Is she well?"

"She lives, but she is not waking. Call an ambulance will you?" He listened more to Mari's abdomen and then smiled a little hearing the fast heartbeat of the baby. It seemed well and not in distress, but they needed to have Mari seen for, at the very least, stitches.

She nodded and went to do just that as John gently touched his best friend's wife's face. Mrs. Hudson returned. "They are on the way."

He nodded. "I think she may have a concussion." He sighed. "If I could wake her…" He looked at her and then he pressed his hand to her cool skin. She twitched a little and then her eyes fluttered. "Mari…Can you see me?" He asked as her eyes opened a little.

"John…" A soft voice whimpered.

"Mari…" He said taking her hand. "Can you hear me?"

"Hurts…" she whimpered her hand going to her head. He caught it in his.

"Don't. You are bleeding rather badly. Do you remember when you started the cookies?"

"Cookies…" Her eyes flew open. "The party, I must…" she sat up, but then her hands went to her head and he eased her back.

"No, I think you need to stay where you are, sweetheart. I am sure they will forgive you. Rest. Talk to me."

"I…how am I on the floor?" She asked looking up at the counters.

"That is what I am trying to understand." He smiled gently pulling some of her hair from the blood of the wound. She winced as it tugged on the clotting wound. "Sorry." He said gently. He looked at it closely. It was not going to stop on its own. He pressed a towel to her head and she gasped in pain. "I know, but we need to get it stopped." He reached down. "Here take my hand."

She squeezed it and shut her eyes feeling a touch nauseous.

The paramedics arrived. "Where is the lady?" The first asked.

Mrs. Hudson pointed.

"Hello. I am Doctor Watson." John said looking up. Her blood was coating his fingers. "This is Marion Holmes, thirty, five months pregnant. She took a nasty spill. Suspected concussion and possible fetal distress. I want to make sure she gets looked at."

They nodded taking her blood pressure and putting in an IV. The woman winced as it went into her hand. John looked at her. "I know Darling. You will feel better soon."

The paramedics then put a backboard under her with a neck brace and strapped her on. She was immobile and looking about. They then lifted her onto the gurney and strapped her down with a blanket as John held the fluid bag up. "John?" She whimpered.

"It's okay. I am going with you, honey." He said patting her shoulder lightly as he pressed the cloth to her head still.

The group moved down the stairs and out into the cool afternoon with snowflakes fluttering about. John set the bag down on her as they pushed her into the ambulance. He sighed as they made sure she was secure.

John looked at Mrs. Hudson. "Call Sherlock. Tell us to meet us at hospital." She stood at the door watching.

She nodded and he jumped in with them and spoke keeping her calm as they drove off.

"John."

"I'm here, Mari." He said softly as the ambulance moved and he hung up her bag on the gurney pole. He then settled as the door shut and he looked down shining a light into her eyes. She blinked. "Oh good news. I think you don't have a concussion, but you will have one hell of a headache."

"Like I don't already." She muttered.

He smiled a little. "Well your humor has been knocked out of you. That is good."

The paramedic gently looked her over as John and he kept her talking to them. "Are you alright, Mrs. Holmes?"

"Doctor." John said softly.

"Pardon?" The paramedic asked.

"She has a Ph.D. Doctor Holmes." He smiled as she looked up at him. "Hello, sweetheart. So tell me. What did you put in those delicious cookies?"

"Ummm sugar, milk, flour, cinnamon." She said. She blinked. She clearly had a headache and she blinked as a blood drip feel into her eye.

John flicked it away softly.

"Those sound lovely." The paramedic said. "Can I tell my wife? She is always looking for a good recipe."

"Sure." She said.

"Frosting?"

"Of course." She smiled a little.

The paramedic chuckled. "Naturally." He cocked his head. "And what was in that?"

"Well I started with some confectioner's sugar and champagne…"

ZzZ

Due to her being pregnant and arriving by ambulance she was taken to a room immediately. A doctor came in and looked her over and attached her to a fetal monitor. John sat beside her as the ambulance team and nurses moved her to a bed.

Arms freed John took her hand as they placed a warmed blanket on her. The doctor came in again and spoke to her and John. She had a history of syncope and the doctor informed them the baby was well. John's calm helped her to remain so as well, and the doctor had her sit up with the help of the bed.

He ordered stitches and some pain medication and then would do a couple other tests before sending her on her way. It was a scare and she needed to relax more.

John nodded. "Oh don't worry. With a doctor in the house, she will be having her feet up a lot."

"You are her husband then?"

"No, flatmate, but I will be keeping an eye on her. Dr. Watson."

"Ah. Very good." The doctor looked down at Mari. "They are going to take some blood and then get some more fluid in you. You have finished this bag so clearly you need more."

She nodded. "Okay." She looked at John. "Where is Sherlock?"

"Coming." He said touching her cheek gently. "I texted him a moment ago." He sighed. "Just relax and watch the telly a bit." He smiled gently at her.

A nurse came in and drew blood after several attempts at her veins. In the end, John had asked to have the butterfly. They stared at him incredulously and he shook his head saying he was an emergency surgeon formerly.

They relented and he warmed her hand with the blanket and then tapped the veins on her hand to make them rise. When he found his aim he tied a tourniquet around her arm watching her veins. He pulled on a glove with a snap and then found drove the small needle in. He smiled as he was rewarded with blood in the tube.

"Now now many you need."

The nurse nodded and handed him three large and two small. He filled them all and then nodded to Mari. "My brave little patient."

"I should have you do that all the time." Mari said watching him as he pulled it out and pressed a cotton ball to it. He then wrapped it with purple nonstick tape tightly and then sat back as he pulled off the glove.

"Thank you John." She whispered. "That one lady was a digger. It hurt."

He lifted her arm. Her elbow had a series of wraps and one had the bruise already extending outwards. "I know."

Another nurse came in with another with a stitch kit. John smiled up at them. "Want me to do that too?" He asked.

"That won't be necessary, Doctor, but thank you." The elder said. "At least this won't be difficult like her veins."

"I am sorry. They have been like that since I was a child." Mari said.

"It's alright dearie. This doctor has earned his stripes here." The woman smiled and then had Mari sit up and turn to her. John sat beside her. Supporting her and allowing her to lean on him. She was exhausted, he could see and a third nurse started more fluid for her.

The nurse cleaned the area and found fresh blood welling. "You did quite the job on yourself didn't you." She said. She put disinfectant on it. It stung and Mari winced. "Oh I know. Bear with me a bit. I am thinking about eight stitches." She looked over at John. "What do you think?"

"I would say eight to ten, yeah."

She nodded and smiled.

John held Mari's hand as she closed her eyes as the powerful light moved over her head so the nurse could see better. She then heard a noise at the end of the hall. John heard it to and he gently rose to his feet.

"Sir…you can't be here…" A nurse outside was saying.

"My wife is here. I must find her." A deep voice said. "Now if you would be so kind as to direct me to which room Mrs. or Doctor Marion Holmes is in, I will let you go about your business."

"Sir..we need to look for…sir…where are you going…? You can't…"

"I am looking for my wife." He said walking through some doors that someone had just walked out of.

"Sherlock?" Mari gasped. She looked at John. "He will be angry."

"Hush…" John said going to the door. "I will get him."

Sherlock dodged the nurses and one called security. The officers stood looking at him.

"You need to come with us sir."

"Certainly after I find my wife." Sherlock said spreading his hands.

John stepped forward and smiled looking at the officers. "It's okay. He is with us."

"John." Sherlock said. "How is she? Is her pulse irregular? Are they doing everything for her?"

John smiled at his concern. "She is fine. Just a crack on the head is all. She needs stitches…"

"Stitches?!" Sherlock gasped as John opened the door revealing the blood covered woman, seated on the bed, holding a suture scissor in her hand as the nurse tied off a stitch. Sherlock swallowed. She looked so small, her hair matted with blood, her cheek, chin, and cloth over her collarbone all bearing the evidence of her bleeding on them. "It isn't as bad as it looks, Sherl…"

"Mari…Mother of God." Sherlock gasped taking in her wound as it was being stitched together. He came to her and looked her over. "What happened?" He asked. He touched her cheek lightly looking at the wound.

"I was baking and…"

His finger lifted to her lips. "Have you done an x-ray and looked for a brain bleed?" He asked looking at the nurse. "This is the fourth time she has fainted while pregnant. There must be something wrong now if I could have your most competent doctor…"

"Sherlock…" Mari said reaching for him, but he looked at the nurse his green eyes wide in near panic.

"Sherlock…" John said trying to stop Sherlock as well.

"Are all the people in hospital so useless? Go. My wife's life hangs in the balance."

"Sherlock…" John said. He touched his friend's arm as Sherlock turned to his wife who was looking at him. "She is all right. She doesn't even have a concussion, just a bad cut that needs stitched." He said trying to rein in Sherlock's panic.

Mari lifted a hand to the nurse. "Pay him no mind. He is just excitable."

"Excitable?!" Sherlock hissed at her.

The nurse nodded understanding. "Many first time fathers are. I am not taking offense."

"Good." Mari looked at him. "Sherlock, calm down. I am fine. We are fine."

"That can't be. Something has to be wrong…"

"She has low blood sugar and low blood pressure. Quite common in pregnant women Mr…" A new voice said behind them as the doctor walked in. "We are getting her fluids now."

"Holmes. And who might you be?" Sherlock asked looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"Dr. Gerard. The attending. And you…"

"Holmes, her husband." Sherlock looked at him. "Have you run tests? Is the baby all right?"

"Yes. They are both quite well. You wife needs to take a bit more rest when she is feeling fatigued is all, Mr. Holmes."

Mari was watching Sherlock with adoration in her gaze. He cared. He really did care. He was pale and the look in his eyes made him look like a mad man. "Sherlock…" She whispered. She reached for his hand.

He turned to her as the nurse finished the stitches. She nodded turning off the light. "You will need to keep these dry a couple days, but it should heal soon. We can take them out in a week or so."

Mari nodded then. "Okay…"

"Mari…Habibati." He touched her cheek gently with his other hand, his long fingers bent, caressing her tenderly with his knuckles. She looked at him. His simple words, calling her sweetheart in Arabic, made her eyes mist over.

"I want to go home." She whispered. His tenderness broke her shell of trying to be strong. "I…" She started to have tears in her eyes. "It hurts…I want to go home. I hate hospitals." She whimpered. "Sherlock, please. No more." She begged.

He pulled her into his embrace and let her sob into his jacket as he sighed pressing a kiss into her hair away from the wound, but his nostrils still flared at the thick blood smell. "You heard her. When can I take her?"

"Soon. We have another test to come back, but I promise within the hour." The doctor said gently.

Sherlock nodded. "All right." He caressed his wife's back as she sobbed. Normally a man who avoided weeping women at all costs and other humans in general, he felt he needed to hold her, to give her comfort. He pressed his cheek to her hair and hummed softly to sooth her as she wept into his shirt needing love and security at the moment.

He had never realized how much he really held her in affection until he saw her looking so small, bloody, and terrified on the table. He sighed. He was fond of her and he worried for her in his own fashion. Was this what love was? Having her in pain he could not stand it.

She was released to his care within the hour. They drove home. Mari sat in the backseat, silent, watching the city go by. John was driving and Sherlock sat in the front seat. He looked back. She was nearly asleep. She and the baby were well, but she looked pale with her head bandaged.

Once they got to the house she let herself out and walked to the door brushing passed her husband who watched her go. Shaking his head and sighing he followed and opened the door. Mrs. Hudson greeted them.

"Oh there you are. Is all well then?"

"Yes. Thank you." Sherlock said. He watched his wife go to the flat and wait on the landing.

"I have some supper made for you since you have had a trying day."

"That is kind." Sherlock said nodding. He went and opened the door.

His wife walked in and then saw the mess. She sighed and moved to clean the dried blood. He shook his head watching. John Watson came in and shut the door as Sherlock went to pick up his violin. He began to play and Mari paused, listening before she continued. John went to her.

"Mari, dear one, no. Go take a bath, but try to keep your stitches dry. It will relax you." He took her shaking hands. "I will finish this."

"I am fine. I missed my party and now I just want to…"

The violin stopped. "You are on doctor's orders to be taking it easy, Mari. That starts now. Go do as Dr. Watson says."

Mari straightened. "No."

He turned to her. "No?"

"No. You are not my keeper. I will do as I will." She said defiantly. She looked at him. He knew she did not like being told, but in this case. She needed it.

"You are my wife and you have just returned from the hospital. It is either the bath or the bed for you." He said. His cold look left no room for argument. So he was back to that. She shook her head. Back on his home turf he thought he could bully her. Oh had another thing coming.

"Perhaps you are right. This was a mistake. All I want is love and I get unfeeling."

Unfeeling? He had been in a near panic at the hospital and he had held her as she sobbed against him. Maybe this was just her being overwrought. He could pass it off as that so he let it slide. For now.

"It is who I am, Marion." Sherlock said. "You married me and you carry my child. I do care about your welfare." He said. "But you are correct. I did not really need a wife, but I have one so I must make due." He froze. Why the hell did he just say that?

"Are you always such an abrasive ass?" she hissed. "One kind word. All I long for in this world."

He looked at her. "What kind word? You are a woman carrying a child. It is a fact. You are my wife. Also fact. You are angry and I have no idea why, but neither do I care. However, I would suggest calming yourself for the sake of the babe within before I have to take you back to the hospital." He said straightening to his full impressive height. If he needed to be cold for her to take the hint that he would just do that out of caring, so be it.

She lifted her chin and her eyes narrowed. "All anyone cares about is the baby."

"Mari that isn't true." John protested coming back from his bedroom.

Mari watched Sherlock lift the violin again and begin to play as he watched her. "Fine. I will go take a bath since it actually would feel nice. I do not appreciate being told what to do."

She walked to the bathroom and slammed the door. Undressing she climbed into the bath and drew her knees up to her chest and sat in the water. Once she had enough she turned it off and held herself, tears running down her cheeks.

John looked at Sherlock. "She really is trying you know. She wants to understand and be a good wife." He paused. "She is really scared. Being taken by ambulance away. She missed her party. Let her settle before you start scolding."

Sherlock looked at him a moment, but remained silent as he played.

ZzZ

She did not hear the knock. She was sitting in the water, curled in a ball about her belly, tears still dropping from her eyes as she rested her cheek on her knee. The water had chilled, but she did not move.

A hand touched her shoulders and then recoiled. "Dear lord, you are cold!" Came the rich voice of her husband to her senses. "Come, right, stand up." He said holding up a towel.

She looked up at him her eyes puffy and red. She whimpered and sighed rising to her feet. His look left no room for argument. She shook her head. She had kept her stitches dry at least. Her head hurt and she really could not take much more of her husband's Holy-Than-Thou sentiment at the moment.

He wrapped the towel about her. Her belly was full and veined like a fruit. She sighed and toweled herself off and he offered her warm flannel nightdress that hung down to the floor. She sat on the toilet seat and moved to pull on the socks he had also brought, but he knelt and took her small foot in his hand.

"You are so small Habibati." He whispered. He pulled the socks on and then pulled her to her feet. She looked up at him as he laid a hand on her waist. "So beautiful." She wobbled a bit and then walked passed him.

John looked up as she walked by to her bedroom. She looked almost angelic minus the bandage about her brow and the roundness of her belly. She was more waddling now than walking also, but her red hair in the light looked like fire as she went to the bedroom.

She sat down on the bed and reached for a book.

Her husband entered the room and shut the door. He removed his shoes, suit jacket, and looked back at her as she put a hand to her eyes. He touched her leg softly. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Just my head hurts." She said blinking.

He nodded and offered her a tablet and some water from his table at the bedside. She took both and crawled under the covers. She was asleep as her head hit the pillow. He watched her as she curled up in a near fetal position around her belly.

He sighed and took a breath. "What am I to do with you, Mari?" He whispered. "I care so much, but show me the way." He said looking at her, his voice a whisper. He bent and kissed her cheek softly. "Sleep well. I am here if you need me." He said softly.

He continued to undress and then slid into the blankets beside her. He laid his head on his pillow watching her, listening to her breath, trying to relax his own head. "I love you." He whispered to her as he closed his eyes. "I love you so much." He said as he swallowed, a tear dropping from his eye to the pillow.

If he would have lost her…


	7. Christmas Surprises

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 7 – Christmas Surprises

Mari was standing on a chair hanging garland. She then moved. She looked held the star for the tree. She looked up at the tip. She would not be able to reach it on the chair. She sighed and shook her head flicking her thick braid back over her shoulder as she stood hands on her hips thinking.

Tonight was the Christmas party they were throwing for the friends of the family. There were few enough. John and she had been up since early making treats, goodie bags, and baking the main course. John had insisted she rest every hour or so and kept her well hydrated.

Sherlock fluttered about reading, writing, and watching the production. After a long rest, Mari smiled announcing she needed to go for some last minute things.

"Where you going?" John asked.

"Grocery store. I won't be long."

"I can come with you if…"

"No need, John. I will go." Sherlock said standing from where he had been reading the news on his phone.

"Pardon?" John asked.

"What?" Mari said looking at him as she stood her hand on her belly. She stepped a bit and gasped a little.

Sherlock stepped forward, eyes wide. "Are you all right?"

She looked at him and smiled. There was no sign of distress in her look. It was a look of joy. Her hand was on her belly and she looked down again even as both men stood within feet of her, watching her.

"What happened?" John asked.

"I…I think it was the baby." She whispered pressing her hand over the spot.

Sherlock's large hand pressed to her as John smiled at Sherlock wanting to feel his child. After a few moments, Sherlock stepped back. "I didn't feel anything." He sounded annoyed and sad at the same time.

John patted his shoulder. "Women feel them sometimes weeks before you can. Soon, Sherlock. Soon."

Sherlock pouted a moment and then straightened. He pulled on his gloves as he watched his wife bundle herself up. He offered her his arm. She smiled and took it walking out with him. He hailed a cab and they got into the warm interior.

Sherlock settled and smiled at the driver. "Nearest grocery please."

"Sir." The man said.

Mari looked at him from under her hood she had pulled up. "You really didn't need to go. I just needed some wine, a couple sparkling apple juices for me and whomever wants it, and some crackers."

"I want to be a little more proactive in the shopping from now on. I have heard it is a good study of human behavior."

She chuckled. "Ever at work aren't you darling."

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Yes, but it will be fun and I have been cooped up in the house all day."

"So have I." she frowned.

"You aren't a nicotine addict who has a bunch of nervous energy."

"True." She smiled.

At the store they got out. They walked in. The store would be closing in a matter of a couple hours for the holiday. She picked up a basket and walked straight for the wine. Sherlock walked with his hands behind him looking at the people they passed smiling in mild amusement at them. One man clearly had forgotten several things and was busily checking a list written in a scrolling hand. A female. His wife no doubt with her parents visiting. Poor man. At least Sherlock did not have in-laws to worry and fret about.

Another was trying to be non conspicuous about carrying condoms. Oh a hot date then? Sherlock looked him over. Clean clothes, shaved, tennis shoes, and a nice shirt. Hot date and hoping to get lucky, but not too much hope about it. His right sleeve marked him as an internet porn addict. Shame, he was a young man. Best of luck, young man. The girl isn't dating you for sex, she is dating you as a sympathy date he wanted to scream, but then shook his head.

Marion paused and he had to side step to avoid crashing into her. He recovered it well by leaning down pretending to inspect a can on the shelf nearby. He noticed she had not put on a hijab, but rather she wore a headband with a silk flower on it. An interesting change. Her hair hung down her back in a thick braid as she looked at the varietals. She picked a nice merlot and claret. She moved to the whites and seemed to notice he was behind her like a watchful shadow.

She looked at him. "Would you be kind and get some sparkling apple juice? It is two aisles over."

"Ah divide and conquer then. Very well. Won't be a moment." He said and disappeared.

She selected two whites and then looked up as he returned arms full of sparkling apple juice, some brie, crackers, olives, and some tea. She could not help, but giggle as he set everything in the basket and then smiled at her.

"Allow me." He said softly.

She sighed and allowed him to take it. She looked in inquisitively. She then noticed he also had at least three kinds of chocolate in the basket as well. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

He grinned. "I might…get peckish before the stores open again."

She laughed outright at that and nodded. "But of course. You had better share."

"Oh I will." He smirked.

She playfully slapped his arm and then held it. She was still grinning as they walked toward the front.

He reached and touched her cheek pausing a moment. "I love seeing you smile and laugh." He said. He smiled at her. "My beautiful Mari."

She giggled and leaned against his hand a moment. He then led her to the cashier. The lady put the bottles in a cloth bottle holder. All six were held well. The groceries went nearly in two sacks. Mari paid, speaking pleasantries with the cashier who kept looking at Sherlock. Mari smiled and nodded, blushing a little. The cashier laughed and went to Sherlock and hugged him.

"Thank you for all you do!" She said lifting her rosy cheeked face to look at him. He looked helpless as Mari stood back smiling behind them. The lady stepped away and he picked up the groceries. Mari looked down. She then looked up at her husband as he walked for the door, smiling a little.

"Sherlock…Let me…Let me help…"

He shook his head. "Don't be silly. I am not going to have you carry these."

She sighed and moved to call a cab. One stopped at the corner and they got in and went back to Baker street. Mari paid the cabbie as Sherlock got out. She got the door and smiled looking at her tall husband.

He looked at her. "What?" He asked.

"That was rather enjoyable." She smiled.

"Quite." He said and dipped down. He kissed her cheek. "I will have to go again. Fun to watch the people."

"You didn't mind Jennifer then?"

"A blog reader then?"

"Naturally." She smiled.

"Well at least she was grateful. Now. What can I do to help so you can put up your feet for a while?"

John appeared. "Ah. Welcome back."

Marion smiled. "Ask John. He has everything stashed places."

John chuckled. "Just in here. I will see to it. You should so see to your wife." He said nodding toward her as she sat down in a chair.

"It is snowing again." She said, her voice full of wonder.

Sherlock nodded at John and stepped to his wife. He bent down and perched his head on her own looking out as his hands rested on the back to either side of her. "So it is."

He stepped around her and dropped onto the chair arm. Her hand lifted and rested on his thigh as he sat there. After a few moments he moved and began to play his violin. Mari settled, her hand on her expanding belly, listening. Her eyes closed and her head dropped to the side.

Sherlock had been watching her and smiled a little as he continued watching his wife as she napped.

Mrs. Hudson came up carrying some food with her and was about to speak when Sherlock pursed his lips and looked at Mari's sleeping form. John noticed and moved putting a blanket on her and moving to start a fire in the hearth. Mari shifted a little, lulled by the soft sounds of her husband's musical talent.

ZzZ

The four awaited their guests. Marion had changed into a lovely dress of green velveteen that went to her mid-thigh with black maternity leggings and Christmas socks. She didn't wear shoes. The belt to her dress was silver and belted high over her belly. Her hair, which she had styled and wore long, hung about her shoulders and back like a thick cloud. In it was a headband of silver that was delicate and matched her belt.

Sherlock stood next to her, his suit jacket buttoned, a hand on her shoulder, idly caressing her soft skin with his long fingers since the dress had a very open neck. He ached to touch her hair, but for now he would behave, settling for her skin and idly playing with one of her dangling earrings that made a delightful bell sound when it moved.

Mari smiled. He was almost like a cat and could not resist the shiny toy in the firelight. She would normally have scolded him, but she was enjoying the tender caresses too much. She knew he was soothing himself as much as her by doing it.

John was in a sweater, relaxed pants, and loafers. Mrs. Hudson was wearing a purple dress and she was watching Sherlock with his wife as she sat across from them. Sherlock seemed deep in thought as he caressed his wife with the backs of his fingers along her neck and collarbone tenderly.

The first to arrive was DI Lestrade. Next was John's girlfriend. He greeted her with a kiss. Marion levered herself up and walked into the kitchen to pour wine.

Lestrade looked at her and smiled. "You are looking well Marion."

"Thank you." She smiled.

He was casually dressed and looked rather at home as he looked over the goodies. "Can I help myself? I haven't eaten since breakfast."

She smiled. "Oh you poor thing. Go ahead Inspector." She said. "Can I pour you some wine?"

"Please." He said taking a plate.

"Red or white?"

"Red if you have some." He smiled.

She smiled at him. "Of course." She moved to uncork the bottle.

"How are you feeling? You look smashing." He said smiling at her.

She poured the glass and handed it to him before she smiled down and patted her belly. "It is going well." She said.

He took the glass. "May I?" He asked.

She chuckled and nodded as she spread her hands. He was being so polite about it. She smiled as he pressed his hand to her and then chuckled.

"I have not done that since my ex-wife was pregnant with our daughter. Thank you."

She smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "You are welcome, Greg."

She walked into the common room where Sherlock was looking at John's girlfriend. He was trying to guess which one she was and Marion rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "My husband does not have a head for names, apologies." She said meeting her husband's gaze and giving him a look. "Welcome to the party Abigail."

The lady had been watching Sherlock annoyed, but brightened as Marion said the correct name. Disarmed she joined John who was talking to Lestrade. Mari smiled and offered a glass of wine to her husband.

He smiled and took it looking at her. She arched an eyebrow, but turned as she heard someone at the door. The last two guests no doubt. She moved to the top of the landing.

"Welcome." She said. "Let me get you some wine."

"Thank you!" Came a male and female voices from below.

Sherlock smiled and took the glasses and brought them as he offered to take coats. Marion poured some apple cider for herself. She smiled lifting an olive and lifting a cracker. She smiled as she heard the chatter to the side as everyone spoke together.

She stepped out of the kitchen, hand on her belly, watching everyone. She sipped on apple juice in a flute as she looked up seeing Sherlock standing back. He was watching as well. He then saw her looking at him and smiled.

Mycroft stepped to her and smiled. "Ah there you are my beautiful sister." He said stooping and kissing her cheek.

"Mycroft." She said softly. She was suspicious of the man. She had never taken a real shine to him and Sherlock smiled as she spoke to the man. She then laughed with him about something. Sherlock knew she may never forgive him for letting his lackey hit her. Hell, he wasn't ready to forgive his brother for that either.

"I am glad you could make it, Mycroft."

"I would not miss this for the world." Mycroft smiled. "And I know it was you who invited me."

She took a sip of her drink. "Family is family. Perhaps one day you two will get along."

"Perhaps." He nodded. "However, it helps to have such a lovely buffer."

She chuckled lightly. "Flattery will get you everything, Mycroft."

"I know. Though you are yet to take a shine to me. Perhaps there is something I can do to amend this."

"Flowers and chocolates are a good start." She said.

He chuckled. "Now, now, I do not want to have a jealous feud over you as well."

She shook her head drinking more. "Honestly, I just need to get to know you better. Some tea sometime? Coffee cake?"

He nodded. "I would like that."

"A good start then." She said lifting her glass. He clinked his to hers.

"You look beautiful." Mycroft smiled at her. "You are keeping well I trust."

"Of course. Despite what you may think, he is a good husband and cares for me and the baby."

"Up until he met you, I did not think he was capable of sex with a woman, let alone marriage."

She looked up at her brother-in-law. "You thought him gay?"

"No, I thought him asexual." Mycroft said. He chuckled. "I will talk to you soon, but I see some mini quiche calling my name."

She shook her head. "Help yourself…brother."

She then walked over to her husband as he stood there in the shadows. She smiled at him and he reached down taking her hand, lifting it, looking at her wedding band. He then looked at the rest of her, twirling her so she stood, her back to him, their hands dropping to her belly.

"You looking ravishing, habibti." He told her softly.

"Happy Christmas, Sherlock." She whispered.

"Happy Christmas, Mari." He whispered back. She took a sip of her drink and looked at the other guests. She swallowed and smiled as she felt Sherlock shift her hand. She looked down and then up at him. He set his wine glass down. Sherlock reached down and cupped her face between his hands and kissed her, deeply. She gasped, startled, and then relaxed into his embrace.

They kissed for what seemed like ages until she realized there were jeers and cheers as people had taken notice. He stepped back breathless and she leaned against him, burying her face in his shirt as she flushed red.

Molly Hooper stood, eyes wide. Sherlock smiled at her. Lestrade had told her about Sherlock's marriage. She had not taken it well at first, being cold to him in the pathology lab until he reminded her that she was a friend and he trusted her greatly. But to watch them kiss pulled at her heart strings a little.

He then nodded to his wife as he lifted his violin. She dropped into a chair.

Sherlock began to play and everyone stopped talking to listen.

ZzZ

Dinner was lovely. It was nearly eleven when everyone began to disburse. First was Abigail who called a cab home. John went with Lestrade to the airport. They both had early flights out to see family. John had gone to see his family after much convincing on the part of Mari to speak to Harry, Harriet, his sister whom he was estranged from. She had sobered and had been looking forward to a holiday with her brother. Lestrade was going to see his ex-wife and daughter.

Mrs. Hudson retired after seeing Molly Hooper and Mycroft Holmes out. That left the flat to Mari and Sherlock. Mari sat dreamily before the fire watching the flames dance. Mrs. Hudson told them she would be up late in the morning to help clean and then would start on Christmas dinner for the three of them.

Sherlock went about locking the place up. He noticed his wife was no longer in her place. He looked about and then heard the water run and saw a trail of clothing leading to the washroom. He chuckled and walked toward it. He had removed his shoes, but walked for the room.

He opened the door, hearing the water run. The water was running. She was taking a shower. He smiled and could see her form moving as she washed. He stripped himself, standing naked a moment, and then pulled back the curtain at the back and stepped in.

He had never joined her. A few times he had come into the room and talked to her while she bathed or sat in silence just watching as she read by candle light. He closed the curtain and smiled. She stood under the water, her hands were cupping the swell of her abdomen, daydreaming. It was still high. She had several months to go yet, but she was halfway in three days of her pregnancy.

Tenderly, he stepped forward, his hands wrapping around her body and cupping the swell in his hands from underneath. He bent his head and kissed her shoulder before pressing his forehead to her shoulder, letting the water fall about them. She leaned her head against his, enjoying the tenderness and closeness to him, though he had felt her start originally.

"So beautiful." He murmured, his hands caressing the swell.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"Enjoying a shower." He said smiling against her flesh.

She rolled her eyes and turned to him, kissing him, pressing her abdomen to him. She was starting to become a little self-conscious about the bulge, but she was glowing, really glowing. His hands rested on her lower back, fingers caressing the soft roundness of her buttock.

He then lifted his hands to her hair that was now like a living thing about her, clinging to her skin. "You really should wear your hair down more often. It is lovely."

"I did it for you, husband."

He nipped her lips gently. "Say it again."

"I did it for…"

"No the last word." He said.

"Husband?"

"Hummm. My wife." He said kissing her again hungrily.

She relaxed into his kiss. His hands were everywhere and she was powerless to resist his charms.

When they were soaked and breathless he blinked and grinned at her. "Shall we retire, habibti."

He smiled and turned off the shower and then looked at her. Wet, she looked so innocent and small. They stepped out, and they toweled off, watching each other playfully. He rubbed his tongue over his teeth and she tossed her towel at him. He chuckled and clicked his tongue at her. He took her hand as he led her to the bedroom. Once inside he closed the door and she backed away from him. She looked at him, all of him in his glory before her as he stepped to her and kissed her, pressing her backwards to the bed.

They kissed and he smiled at her as he pressed into her, watching her eyes as she exhaled shifting to take him deeper. He looked at her, his beloved wife. He watched her looking up at him with such love, caring, and desire, it undid him.

"Mari. I love you." He whispered, his hands gliding up her sides. "I love you so much." He touched her cheek, his eyes serious and full of adoration. "Never leave me." He begged, his hand on her belly. "Please…"

She realized that was his greatest fear and he was trusting her with the knowledge of it. She smiled and looked up at him, eyes moist.

"Never." She whispered back. "Oh Sherlock. I love you too." She smiled touching his high cheek-boned face. Tears were in her eyes, but she was smiling. She didn't care what he got her for Christmas now, his words were the best gift he could have given her.

ZzZ

Christmas Morning

Marion Holmes lay on the bed. Her husband still slept, He had fallen asleep with his body against her, his hips to her own, his legs wrapped about hers. She felt his soft breaths against her hair and could feel his warmth against her. His arm was over her hip in quiet possession, hand resting on her thigh.

He had never slept so before, but then he had never showered with her before either. She smiled. Her Christmas Eve had been deliciously satisfying and to hear the words she had wanted to hear from his lips for months, made her smile, even now.

She looked out the window. It was light out, but the snow still fell and the wind shook the windows a little.

She turned and sat up a little. She sighed and walked to the washroom. A curse of pregnancy was a rather full bladder, often. She smiled and returned to him. He hadn't moved and he looked so young and adorable in sleep so.

She crawled back under the blanket and rested on her back, moving his arm up. He did not wake. It was funny. She had always taken him for a light sleeper. She let his arm rest against her thighs as she lay there, looking at the ceiling.

She then gasped startled.

Sherlock woke to that and sat up, looking at her in alarm. "Mari?" He asked. He blinked, still mostly asleep. "Are you all right?"

"Perfectly. Feel." She said pressing his hand to her belly, low, on the curve.

He blinked and looked at his hand as if concentrating. He then sighed after a moment. "Nothing." He sounded dejected.

She bit her lip and moved his large hand higher, toward her breasts. She pressed his hand with hers. She looked at him watching him. This time he was rewarded by a jab to his palm. Mari winced a little, but then smiled as she watched his face.

He beamed. "I feel it!" He gasped. His face was full of affection suddenly as he looked down at her belly.

"Sherlock?" She asked moving her hand to his face. His green eyes were bright.

He pressed a little and was rewarded with another kick. He gasped and smoothed her night dress and laid his cheek against her. Her hand caressed his hair as she looked down at him as he cupped her with a hand and had his cheek to her.

A third kick against his cheek made him lift his head and beam like he was the happiest man on the planet. He looked like a boy who had gotten all he wanted for Christmas and more.

"Nothing…I never felt…it is always so?" He asked caressing her belly.

"Sometimes it hurts a little." His eyes flashed concern. She smiled and touched his cheek. "But not often. It was kicking the whole time at the party."

"Such a wonder. Life within a woman. It is…magical." He whispered looking at the swell. He pressed a kiss to her swell.

The baby kicked again. "It knows its da." She said. She then laughed as he watched in wonder.

"Hello." He whispered caressing the swell reverently.

She sniffled and giggled. "Oh, Merry Christmas, Sherlock." She said happily.

"The merriest ever!" He said. He leaned up and kissed her, deeply, pressing her back against the pillows before he turned her and entered her from behind, his hands were everywhere on her body. "I love you." He whispered as they both climaxed. It did not take long. He had caressed her secret places and he was already hard as it was. His mouth was against her shoulder. "I love you so much."

"I know." She whispered. "I love you too." She smiled. She relaxed. Finally, he had told her the words she had wanted to hear and twice in a matter of hours. Finally, he had broken the barriers he had.

He then looked at her in concern. "The baby? Are you alright?" He asked looking at her.

She smiled and touched his cheek as he hovered over her. "You could never hurt us, Sherlock." She whispered. She turned a little to look at him and he kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you. I love the baby." He looked down at her his hand on the swell. "Is it strange that I now feel so full of emotion at the baby?" He looked at her, his green eyes wide. It was clear he was in awe of the feelings in him. The protective feelings and most importantly, the feelings of love. He knew that now. This was love. Love for his child. Love for the woman carrying his child. Love for his marriage. Love…the dangerous game was now his and no longer chemistry or flirting. This was real, tangible, and his.

"No. You can feel it alive now. It is that much more real to you."

"Indeed." He said and settled. He was still grinning like an idiot.

The baby settled and he settled behind her, his body pressed to her, his arm protectively over her once more. Neither felt the need to leave their warm love nest yet and why would they. It was Christmas, their first Christmas together.

She had never felt so warm inside or as loved as she did now. She looked at the window at the snow falling as Sherlock, who was not quite asleep, caressed idle patterns on her hip and thigh. She then realized he was drawing patterns of snowflakes. She smiled and reached down. She took the hand, kissed the fingers, and then held it as she snuggled closer, if that were possible. He muttered something into her hair and relaxed again. She sighed.

She was home. Finally. 221B Baker Street was home.

A very Happy Christmas indeed.


	8. The Tangled Webs We Weave

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 8 – The Tangled Webs We Weave

It was New Year's Eve.

Marion had gone into the museum to check up on her project that would open on the third. She had a large gala party to go to on opening night and one she was going to insist her husband and John attend. John was already trying to inquire into what Abigail was doing. Mari had told him if he could not find one, she would for ten pounds and she knew he would enjoy it better. He had brushed it aside and she had smiled. That would be the easiest ten pounds she ever made.

Sherlock was a different problem. He did not like the public and he would have many people flock to him there to speak to him. It was part of the point. With him there as a social icon perhaps they would increase their revenue a little and pay for the upkeep of their artifacts. Donations from the public were key and well she knew it.

It was just passed noon and she decided to go see about getting some lunch. Her stomach rumbled a little. She smiled and lifted her phone. _Mycroft. Are you in the mood for some tea and lunch or are you busy saving the world? Sis_

She waited a few moments. Her phone chirped and she looked down. _That would be a lovely distraction, but you should know I do not often text. Where? MH_

_There is a lovely little tea and sandwich shop next to the museum. Shall I get us a table? Sis_

_I am already here. MH _

She stared at the phone and then looked up into the window. He smiled and lifted his hand in a small wave. As ever in his pin stripe suit, his long frame sitting relaxed, umbrella leaning against his knee, his tie was of blue silk.

How in the world had he…

She walked in and went to the small intimate table for two near the window. He smiled up at her as she sat down, removing her purse. "Okay, that was amazing even for a Holmes brother. How did you…?"

"This is the only restaurant of note within three blocks that you frequent. I know you were out at the museum. I was waiting for you to pass to call and see if you would join me." He shrugged. "Now here we are." He smiled disarmingly.

She stared at him. He was seven years senior to her husband and his hair was thinning, but he still was ever watchful and clever. She then smiled. "So. What is good?"

"You tell me." He smiled.

She lifted a menu. "Everything really. What are you in the mood for, dear brother?"

"Pastrami, no mustard on rye and some conversation with my beloved sister-in-law."

She snorted. "You could come over any time."

"And have to deal with my brother's antics, no thank you. You are definitely the more mature in that relationship and your hormones are all over the map."

She frowned.

"You deny it? You are twenty-one weeks gone with child. I suspect you can be very…moody."

She rolled her eyes as the waitress came. They each ordered. She took some creamy chicken noodle in a bowl and a small half sandwich of avocado, Swiss, and brie. He ordered his and then they sat together, watching, waiting for someone to speak.

"You know, I have often wondered what kept him from having a string of lovers." Mycroft said with preamble. "He is handsome enough I suppose."

"He is easily bored." She chuckled. "Women who are merely interested in him for his looks would not last through dinner." She smiled more.

"The mark of immaturity."

"But someone has to keep up with him mentally as well as physically to make it last."

"Indeed."

"Therefore most women are out of the category."

"True enough." He sat forward, perching his chin on his hands. "You have to be brilliant in your own right. Degrees aside you must have some of the same quirks my brother and I do."

"Maybe I am just good in bed." She smiled sweetly.

He laughed at that. "That would not hold his interest this long. No. There is more about you. You are intriguing my dear. Do not sell yourself short."

She sighed and her hand pressed to the swell of her abdomen. He blinked, his eyes flashing concern. She smiled a little. "Oh, sorry, no the baby is moving." She said. "I am fine."

He seemed pacified by that for the moment at least.

Their lunch came and they ate exchanging pleasantries as they did.

Mari was finishing her sandwich as Mycroft watched her. "Has my brother been behaving himself?"

"That is relative." She said.

"I meant in his marriage."

She looked up at her brother-in-law. "You are jealous." There was something in his look. Mycroft actually was concerned about her and the welfare of her marriage, but it was more than that. Deeper.

"What?"

"You are." She set her sandwich down and looked at him as he sat up almost indignant. She smiled at him. "My masters is in psychology, don't bother to hide it."

He was not used to the tables being turned on him and watched her. She had blown through his guard and left him exposed. She was good. "I sent my brother to the studio on a dare." He said softly. "I should have gone. It was I who was invited."

She blinked at that revelation. "What?"

"I did not want to go and Sherlock's martial skills are considerable. I sent him and dared him into it. I never imagined you would cross his path. I should have been the one to win you." He said quietly.

She stared at him. "I was a dare?" She blinked.

He swallowed. "I would be married, father to be…"

She realized he was very jealous and wanted to be a family man. Unlike his brother who had it forced on him, Mycroft had wanted it all along. She reached out a hand and touched his. He looked down at her hand and then up at her. "Can you make due with being the best uncle on the planet for now, at least until we find you someone?"

He coughed and then smiled a little. "I would like that, but my dear my line of work isn't good for relationships."

"We shall see."

"Playing matchmaker then?" He asked taking her hand in his and holding it gently. He felt at ease with her. She was charming and brilliant in her own way. He smiled a little at her. Perhaps she could find him someone. If not he could have more tea with her and enjoy time with his niece or nephew. He smirked a little. Perhaps that would be better. All the fun and no responsibility.

"Why not? I need hobbies."

He laughed. "Oh, dear you are such a breath of fresh air."

The waitress returned and he paid the bill under Mari's protests. He lifted a hand. "No, sweet sister. I am going to treasure my time with you, the both of you, when I can. The least I can do is buy you lunch."

"Thank you Mycroft." She said.

He dipped his head a little.

She rose and they walked out together and he hailed her a cab. She thanked him and he kissed her cheek. "Remember sister. If you need me. Call."

"I will." She said kissing his cheek. He shut the door and the cab drove off.

"Where to Miss?"

"221 B Baker Street." She said absently, her mind reeling from the conversation. She could not imagine marrying Mycroft, but had she been there, would she have dated him? Perhaps? Or would she had been a one up pawn in the brother's game. Or was she now? She frowned.

ZzZ

Sherlock was looking out the window, his hands behind him as his wife came into the room after ascending the stairs. She took a breath. He was dressed in a black dress shirt that had the top three buttons undone. He wore black slacks and stood musing to himself, but he heard the footfalls of his small wife.

"Hello, my dear." He greeted without turning. "Feeling well?"

"Yes." She pausing.

He looked over his shoulder. He had heard the edge to her voice. "What is it?" He asked, eyes flashing concerned.

"Nothing." She said as she shook her head. She then smiled as he turned to face her.

"You met with someone didn't you?" He asked.

She blinked and then nodded. "Yes, but whom and where." She said.

He sighed. "Really? I thought you meant this to be hard." He said. She arched an eyebrow at him playfully. "You have a smudge of green on your sleeve so you have eaten avocado and there is a tea stain on your shirt so you went to that delightful delicatessen next to the museum that you are always talking about." He paused and then continued. "You came home annoyed, but with whom is the true question, more on that in a moment, but you tolerate most people well enough so not a stranger or co-worker, but this annoyance is because they made you think, which means I am the one you are annoyed with and that could have only happened had you been talking to my dear brother." He cocked his head. "How is my dear brother anyway? He will never lose weight going there."

She shook her head. "High marks for all the above, Mr. Holmes."

"Well that does explain everything." He rolled his eyes. "Next time make it more of a challenge."

"What kind of tea?"

"Darjeeling, lightly brewed for better nuttier flavor." He said looking at the stain.

"Seriously? How did you get that?"

"I will admit that was a partial guess, but thank you for proving me right."

She shook her head and took a deep breath. "And people wonder why our marriage has no secrets."

"Marion, you are like an open book and the pregnancy has frankly made you more of a klutz with foods than you normally are."

She narrowed her eyes and sighed moving to sit down.

"Are you tired?" He stepped to her.

She shook her head as she dropped into the seat. "I am fine Sherlock." She said.

He nodded and straightened. "You have an appointment tomorrow." He said absently pulling out his smart phone from his pocket. "Odd for a doctor to work New Year's Day."

"Not really. They are available holidays and since everyone is back from holiday they decided to open. Makes sense really, they were closed the whole week of Christmas."

"True." He said as he flicked the lock code with his thumb, watching her over it as he looked at his calendar and test messages.

"But yes, I do have an appointment." She smiled and looked up at him her hand going to her belly. "Are you going to come or will you pass again?"

He paused a moment and said nothing. He started to type a text.

"Well?" She asked. "John is coming."

He sighed and nodded. "I will come." He said softly. "I am curious." He said. "I have never seen a sonogram in action." He said. He looked up. "Why is John coming?"

"He is my Lamaze coach and he has gone to them." She said.

He blinked. "Really." His eyes lifted. "Since when have you been in Lamaze?"

"A month. John and I go to the classes. Have you not noticed?"

He shook his head a little. "But why John?"

"Because I need someone whose attention can last more than five minutes and he is a doctor. Made sense to me." She smiled. "And he is your best friend. And he lives here."

He sighed. "You could have asked me." He sounded hurt.

"I did." She said. "You wanted, and I quote, 'nothing to do with that nonsense until the baby is being born.'"

He grunted. "Well John I am sure is doing quite adequate then, I suspect."

She nodded. "He is John. Of course he is."

He rolled his eyes. "He is terrified about the whole thing."

"How would you know?" She asked.

"I read his blog too you know." He said. "He has a whole sub category called, 'And the baby makes four.'"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I am a woman living with two men. Sounds like blog material for me."

"Oh?" His eyebrow lifted.

"Naturally."

"But why is he discussing names? We have not even discussed that." He asked looking up.

"We don't know what it is."

"Of course not and neither does he unless he has some really interesting deductive powers that I am unaware of."

"What is the harm? I enjoy it." She said.

"He posts pictures."

"I let him. He does ask first." She pointed out. "Since they are of me, I do not see the harm." She smiled a little. "Actually I like watching how my belly has grown over time."

He sighed. "It isn't his child."

"In a way it is, Sherlock." She said. "He isn't leaving when the baby comes. He is part of this whole affair too."

He grimaced and sighed. "Perhaps you are right. I had not really considered his view on you invading the home and now the baby. It must be hell on his bachelorhood." He shook his head.

She decided to change the subject. "Don't forget the gala in a couple days. You will need to have Mrs. Hudson iron your suit."

He paused again, exhaling loudly as he rolled his eyes. "Must I go?"

"Yes, Sherlock, you must. At the very least to support your wife and her achievements."

His shoulders slumped. "But things are there." He protested.

"Things? The artifacts?" she asked.

"No, no. I would love to see those. No humans." He muttered. "In abundance."

"Sherlock!" She growled and levered herself up. "I mean really."

He sighed and closed his eyes. He then opened them and looked at her, his eyes green slits full of mischief. "What do I get in return?" He stepped to her, his hand going to her hip.

She looked at him. "I…well…"

His hand glided up the soft swell of her belly, up to her breast, then shoulder, and then down to her hand. He took it and lifted it to his lips. He then interlaced his fingers with hers. "I can think of several things."

She smirked as he pulled her close to him. "I bet you can." She said. She looked up at his eyes. "I will consider it, husband…" She kissed him, wrapping her arms around him. She clasped her arms behind his neck as she stood on tip-toe. His hands naturally went to her hips to support her, his palms against her swollen belly. His eyes shut. "If…" she said looking at him her face near his and he groaned a deep growl in the back of his throat. He frowned deeply and she licked his nose startling him enough to open his eyes again to look at her. "If you behave yourself."

He groaned again and she giggled, pulling him down for a kiss again. He resisted a moment and then let out a long sigh before pressing his lips to hers chastely. "Fine. I will do my utmost, but it will be so boring…" He almost whimpered.

"No it won't be. There will be people to watch and make judgments about and comments."

"But the people who come to these events are stuffy and have no sense of humor." He grumbled.

She pulled back and started for their room when his hand shifted and slapped her buttock as she shifted to move passed him. It didn't hurt, but it surprised her enough to look back at him.

His eyes narrowed. "Oh this had better be worth it." He hissed at her.

She grinned and blew a kiss at him. She made it to the room and had closed the door before he could comment further. He stared after her, hands on his narrow hips. What the hell had he just agreed to? He made a face and blew a raspberry in her direction before lifting his phone again.

"I heard that!" Came her muffled voice from the room.

He smirked as he continued his texting with Lestrade.

ZzZ

It was late evening and the four inhabitants of 221 B Baker Street were all together in the common room. Marion was seated on the floor, a blanket about her as she sat with her back to a chair, and near the hearth that had a warm fire. John was in the chair she was leaning against as she watched the flames. Mrs. Hudson was in the other. Sherlock was standing, sipping champagne as he watched his intimates together.

John and Mrs. Hudson were speaking together, while Mari was silent, her legs folded in a yoga pose, her hands on her belly under the blanket that was wrapped about her shoulders. The baby was quiet now, but it had been moving a couple hours before. She had been so thankful her morning sickness was short lived. With more fluids her syncope seemed to be better as well.

Sherlock set down his wine as he lifted his violin. He looked outside at the breeze stirring the snow. Then a boom was heard, though it was muffled by the glass, as Big Ben chimed midnight.

Sherlock smiled a little. "Happy New Year." He said softly. "To new beginnings." He smiled, eyes dropping to his wife.

"Happy New Year." Everyone in the room said as Sherlock began to play Auld Lang Syne. Everyone was listening, except for Mari who was back to watching the flames as she began to sing softly. John paused and looked down. Mrs. Hudson blinked and the both looked at Sherlock.

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and old lang syne?"

Sherlock seemed to realize there was a beautiful voice accompanying him and he played softer his eyes shutting, listening to the melody as his wife sang, forgetting there were others in the room

"For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

And surely you'll buy your pint cup!

and surely I'll buy mine!

And we'll take a cup o kindness yet,

for auld lang syne."

Sherlock played a final round of the chorus as his wife smiled watching the flames. He ended the tune as Big Ben stopped the tolling of the New Year. He, squatted down, his knees cracking as he did so. He then sat down, sitting behind his wife as he wrapped his arms about her. His head dropped to her shoulder as he pressed a hand to the swell, watching the firelight dance on her features.

"That was beautiful Mari." He whispered, bringing her out of her reverie.

She gasped, realizing they had all heard, but Sherlock turned her to him a little and kissed her mouth softly, gently, but with a hint of promise as his hands rested on the swell.

This was his life now, his world, his child and its mother. He had never felt like this toward anyone or anything until now. This was home. It was a new year, a new life, and a new adventure and he was ready for it.

ZzZ

"Sherlock, darling, you are going to wear a hole in the floor, darling, if you keep pacing." Mari said softly. She was seated on the examining table, her lower half covered by a sheet. John was seated beside her, perched on a narrow stool in his normal place. Sherlock, however, had opted to stand and then when that became too much he began to pace about the room as they waited to be seen. There were two chairs nearby he could occupy, but he did not, he paced about, his hands behind him, long great coat still on, scarf around his neck, dark curls moving restlessly as he moved about the small room.

Mari looked at John and he just shook his head.

The doctor came in and started chatting to Mari as she looked at the chart. Mari answered smiling a little as she looked at John and then her eyes lifted to Sherlock. The doctor, a young woman who was only a couple years older than Mari followed her gaze.

"Oh hello. And who might you be?" She asked looking at Sherlock.

"Sarah, this is…" Mari started.

"You are Sherlock Holmes." The doctor said looking startled.

"Hummm another adoring fan?" He asked arching an eyebrow. "Doctor Richards?" He asked reading her name badge.

"I read Dr. Watson's blog." The doctor said. "And why are you looking at me like I am an object?"

"He does that." John said. "Pay him no mind."

Sarah blinked and then nodded. She then looked at Mari. "You really are married to him. THE Sherlock Holmes."

"I know funny isn't it?" Mari smiled.

Sarah chuckled and nodded. She looked back over her shoulder. "I don't bite, Mr. Holmes. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am also glad you finally decided to show your support in this adventure."

He blinked. "Forgive me, but you hardly look old enough to be a medical student let alone an obstetrician." He stepped forward, towering over the woman as he looked her up and down, keeping his hands behind him.

"Sherlock…" John hissed.

Sarah smiled. "I get that a lot from fathers, especially from first time ones, Dr. Watson." She chuckled and flicked her eyes back at him. "As I recall you were not too impressed the first time I met you, either."

"Got me there." He agreed.

Sarah turned back to Sherlock who was watching her. "What?"

"You are just out of surgery." He said.

"Yes. Rather difficult birth that ended in a C-section." She said.

"Tell me, SARAH, how many babies have you delivered in your short tenure?"

She smiled at him. "Five hundred and sixteen counting the twins this morning." She turned fully to face him. "I am thirty-five and I have been practicing medicine for seven years. Also as being the only one without Doctor before you name in the room you may want to use a slightly arrogant tone here. Anything else, Mr. Holmes?"

John covered his smile with a cough and Mari smirked a little.

He opened his mouth to speak and then clapped it shut thinking better of it. He blinked. "Tell me then, doctor, what are we doing today?"

She smiled at him as Mari. "Shall we get started then?" She asked nodding to Mari spread her legs so she could feel up in her. "Cervix is good." She said as Sherlock moved to the other side of his wife. Mari looked up at him and winced a little.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes. I just have a rather full bladder is all." She said.

"Why in heaven's name didn't you…"

"Has to be for the sonogram." She muttered shifting a little as Sarah stood up.

Sherlock visibly relax. "Sorry for my lack of faith Dr. Richards." He said craning his neck to see what the woman was doing, but he could not see because of the cloth. He was not sure he wanted to know. Besides he was having issues with the fact this woman was nearly as old as he was, but looked ten years younger.

"You are a man who suspects everyone. Why should you or would you trust someone new who is caring for your wife and baby? Especially when you never met me before. I understand Sherlock really." Sarah smiled. She looked up from Mari's legs.

"Thanks." Sherlock said. He kissed Mari's hand and smiled at her.

Sarah pulled up a machine. "Okay Marion. I think we are going to do vaginal today to get a better picture and listen to the heart."

"Vaginal? What? Heartbeat? You can hear it so soon?" Sherlock looked at the doctor.

"Yes. You can start to about week twelve." She smiled cheerfully at the stunned father to be. "Actually she in her twenty-second week so yes. Also we can see if your little stubborn offspring will show us what we want to see."

"Stubborn?" Sherlock blinked and looked at John

"The baby has been…less than cooperative in letting us see the sex."

"Maybe it just wants to hide." Sherlock said.

"Pretty much what it does yes." Sarah spoke up. She nodded and pressed a small thing to Mari's belly where she had drawn down the blanket to reveal her slightly swollen belly. Sarah was listening to it and then smiled. "Sounds good." She said and turned the instrument from headphone to audio.

Sherlock jumped hearing the strange noise. He looked about and then down at Sarah's hand. He then looked up at Marion who smiled at him. "Oh my God. Is that…"

"Yep. That is the heartbeat." Sarah nodded.

"So fast." Sherlock said shutting his eyes to listen to the sound of the life in her. He pressed his hand to her belly as well and then smiled at her. "I do not think I have ever heard something so beautiful." He murmured.

Sarah let the new parents savor the moment before she took it away and reached for another instrument attached to a screen. She held a wand and put a condom on it and some lubricant.

Sherlock looked at her. "Wait you are putting that…in…why can't you do the…thing with the belly that gives a picture?"

"This gets a better picture. Don't worry, sir. It doesn't hurt and you are no doubt larger anyway." She said and Sherlock blushed, a little stunned at that. He tried to cover it with a cough, but failed. Mari noticing only flamed his cheeks more.

"Wow Sherlock. I did not know you blushed." Mari teased him softly. "That is twice I Sarah has stunned you into silence. A rare virtue." She smiled playfully.

He smiled at her a little nervously as he fought to regain his composure. "I do sometimes…" He chuckled. "Not often, however." He straightened and lifted his chin.

Sarah smiled and then turned out the lights and then turned to her task and looked at the monitor. "Oh there you are. Ha, try to get away this time." She chuckled.

The picture was distorted and then became clearer as a small think shifted on the screen. Sherlock was captivated and stepped closer.

"Heartbeat looks good." Sarah said. "Size…" she did some measurements as Sherlock cocked his head looking at the picture.

"An arm." He whispered, tracing the screen. "Leg…head…"

"Hey down in front." Mari muttered.

He looked back. "You have seen this before, I haven't. Heart…"

"It is my belly!" She growled.

He sighed and rolled his eyes coming back to her side. "But…I haven't seen it before." He said pouting a little in the low light.

"You can see perfectly from there. Some of us, can't move." She said a little testily.

He sighed and busied himself with lifting her hand in his as he watched Sarah typing into the computer.

"Well since you are here, do you want to know what you are having, Mr. Holmes?" Sarah asked looking up at him as she shifted the wand a little. The image blurred and then focused again.

"I already know." He whispered.

Mari and John looked up at him. Mari hissed. "Naturally." She muttered.

"It is quite simple." He smiled. "Ever you see and do not observe. John?" He blinked as the lights came back on.

John shrugged. "I really have no idea."

Sarah smiled. "Oh you know. You really do. Why am I not surprised? Wish to tell the class?"

Sherlock smiled at his wife a bit cheekily. "Do you want to know Marion?" He asked pressing his lips to her knuckles.

"Yes of course. Enlighten us." His wife said.

"I can keep a secret if you don't really want to know." He said teasingly.

"Tell me, Sherlock, now…" Mari hissed at him.

He beamed then, the light in his eyes as they danced made her smile as he pressed a hand to her belly. "We will be soon welcoming…" He paused and she growled at him which made him smile more. "A girl." He said softly.

"Oh Sherlock…a daughter…"

"Hummm." He smiled and looked at Sarah who chuckled.

Mari's eyes dropped to her doctor and Sarah lifted her hands. "Are you seriously questioning him? He is Sherlock Holmes. Of course he is right."

Mari's eyes misted and she looked up at Sherlock who was watching her with affection and love at that moment.

He dipped his tall frame down and kissed her before searching her face. His fingers touched her cheek. "Are you happy?"

"Yes. Are you?"

He smirked. "Of course." He grinned.

"Good, now kindly let me up." She said. He blinked at her. Sarah chuckled and offered her a hand. Mari nodded a thank you and hopped down with the sheet about her and ran out the door.

Sherlock looked after his face startled. "Where on earth is she going?"

"She told you, Mr. Holmes. Full bladder." Sarah smiled cleaning up. "I hope I will see more of you soon then."

He looked at her. "You can count on it." He said. He looked back at John who was beaming at him. "What?"

"You are having a girl. A little girl! That is so exciting. I can't wait to blog about it."

"Seriously does the world need to know?"

"Are you going to be keeping it a secret then?" John asked.

Sherlock then grinned again and shook his head. "No. I think I am going to run up the tallest building and shout." He said and the pair of them laughed together.


	9. Bloody Parties

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 9 – Bloody Parties

Sherlock stepped into the common room. He was wearing his best dress jacket, a black bow tie, ironed slacks, and his polished dressed shoes. He felt like he was a pony going to some show as he waited looking at the clock.

John came down from his room in the most formal clothing Sherlock had ever seen him in. "Where on earth did you keep that?" It was clearly his dress military uniform, but had been ironed and his various awards were there.

John smiled a little. "I have had it sometime. Mari thought it would be fun for me to wear it."

"Hummm yes well at least one of us will look like we have some clout."

"What are you two carrying on about?" Mari asked as she emerged from the room she had removed her husband from a while before. She wore a dress of gray-blue fabric that was off her shoulders. Her swollen belly looked well enough in it. Her hair was in an up-do that neither man had ever seen before. She wore pearl earrings and a pearl necklace her husband had gotten for her for Christmas. On her wrist was the matching bracelet. She held her hand bag in her hand and smiled at them as both men stared at her. She had a small hair pin that also had a pearl on it in her hair to keep her bangs back in a styled way. Neither man could stop staring at her for a few moments.

She had been gone much of the afternoon at a salon and now they could see why. She blushed a little as her husband came to her and took her hand. He lifted it and twirled her around making the material move like water about her body. "Armani. Nice." He said smiling.

"Well you know, girl needs at least one good dress." She said.

"I think you have that covered." John said.

Mari chuckled. "And you haven't even met your date yet."

"Abigail couldn't make it." He said.

She smiled as the repaired door bell rang. "Abigail isn't whom I am referring." She smiled. The door opened to reveal a beautiful brunette who walked up the stairs, her dress of midnight blue following her. Unlike Mari, she wore pumps and she smiled at the group as she stood holding her purse and holding a clutch also.

"Genevie." Mari said coming to her and kissing her friend's cheek.

"Marion. So these are them?" She asked.

"American." Sherlock said. "Interesting."

"This would be Sherlock, I presume." Genevie said smiling at him warmly.

He dipped his head. "Indeed."

"And this is John." Mari said.

Genevie chuckled. "Oh he is more handsome than you made him out to be." She said. John's eyes widened as he looked about. "No you silly. Come now."

Mari smiled. "Genevie is a doctor studying to get her final practicum here. She has lived in Uganda. She is, as Sherlock mentioned, American, and she isn't vegetarian." She smiled at John sweetly.

Sherlock smiled. "Well we best be off."

"Indeed." Genevie said as she turned and walked down the stairs carefully. Sherlock waited a moment before following to make sure her long train was out of his way. Mari moved to go down the stairs and John leaned close and pressed a twenty dollar bill into her palm.

"I owe you." He murmured and then kissed her cheek. She grinned at him as they reached the stairs and put the money in her clutch. Sherlock looked at the pair of them bewildered. They walked out to the limo that Sherlock had ordered.

The ride was a pleasant one. Genevie and John were talking while Sherlock watched London go by as he held his wife's hand gently in his. He was dreading the time, but at the same time, her realized it could be fun. Maybe there would be some scandal he could sniff out while watching the people.

They arrived as flakes began to fall. The men ducked down, lifting the trains to the dressed to keep them out of the snow and slush. Sherlock walked beside his wife and she looked up at him. "Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I can be." He muttered.

She smiled as they dropped off their coats and received ticket stubs for their items. Sherlock put them in his bill fold and then stepped back as John and Genevie come. Genevie removed her coat revealing the plunging neckline of her dress that hung nearly to her beautiful derrière. John took a deep breath and then offered her his arm after securing their own pair of tickets.

They walked up the stairs to the great ballroom of the building. Sherlock looked at the people about. More than he would have guessed, the number nearly one hundred or so. They were all in very smart clothing.

Mari went to the doorman who was guarding the top of the stairs. She offered the tickets to him. "Ah, Jeremy."

"Dr. Bayezid. A pleasure to see you."

She chuckled. "You as well."

Sherlock looked down at her. "Bayezid?" He asked. "You have not changed your name?"

"It is hyphenated, but most just keep my maiden name." She said.

He nodded. They did know her far longer. They walked in as Jeremy barked out to the crowd milling about looking at the artifacts and talking. "Doctor Marion Bayezid-Holmes and Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

People paused and turned at his name and Sherlock blinked and looked at his wife. She smiled and walked into the room with him watching her, his eyes narrowed.

"Captain Doctor John Watson and Doctor Genevie Arlington."

Sherlock reached out and took a champagne flute from a passing server. "I am surrounded by doctors."

"Most of the people in this room are doctors, have big pockets, or are on the social ladder."

"Ah." He said sipping the champagne as John and Genevie joined them.

"Can I fetch some punch, ladies?" John asked.

"I would love some, thank you." Mari said smiling.

"I would prefer something stronger." Genevie said.

"What?" John asked interested.

She opened her mouth to speak when Sherlock spoke without turning. "White Russian, extra cream." He said.

Mari smiled a little and Genevie looked at Sherlock who was watching everyone else. "Okay, how did you remotely get that?" She asked.

"You are female so you likely do not like a strong drink. You are an American who likes dairy." Sherlock said.

She stared at him and he turned his head to her. "You have a piece of cheese stuck in your hose." He said remembering when they had been walking in.

"Very good, Mr. Holmes." She said. She turned back to John. "He is right."

"Of course he is." John said rolling his eyes and moved to get the drinks.

Mari shook her head at her husband as Genevie pulled her to the side. "He does that a lot doesn't he."

"Yes." Mari nodded.

ZzZ

The night progressed and Mari had introduced her husband to nearly a dozen people, all of whom were her equals and here to support her. Sherlock was at least civil in his conversation with them before becoming distracted by various things.

Mari sat down in a chair and watched the people as she sipped her punch, glad to be off her feet for a moment.

"Resting? Good."

"Sherlock, you really need to stop sneaking up on people. Someone will die of heart failure." Mari said before turning a little to look up at him.

"I am concerned for your welfare." He said.

"While watching those two women from across the room." She said following his gaze.

"Those two have been throwing themselves at anyone who will pay them the least bit of attention. They are both from local papers. They have recorders tucked into their bras. Their dresses are cheap knock offs, their hair is too well done for the dress, and at least one of them used to be an addict."

She blinked. "Oh?"

"Track marks on her arms. Cocaine is likely. She is also quite pushy."

She nodded. "And the other?"

"Is a straight up bitch."

She snickered hearing that.

"What?"

"Nothing, my love, I am grateful for you being you."

"Ah, Mr. Holmes." An older man said coming forward. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Sherlock took his offered hand and looked him over and then his eyes lifted to his face. "A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jefferies."

The man smiled and nodded. "He is good, Marion."

"Oh and he is just getting started, Raphael."

Raphael Jefferies was a man in his late sixties, but he looked still able in body and mind. He then looked over and saw a younger man in the crowd. "Oh I see you have someone in the audience who does not care for you, Marion."

She followed his gaze as did Sherlock. "Oh, Kam." She said.

Sherlock did not turn his head back. "Who is he?"

"He lost to your wife, Mr. Holmes. Her paper was far superior and her ethic is far stronger." Jefferies said. "This exhibit is from her countless hours gaining permissions and collecting traditions among the people."

"She never was in America when I knew her." Sherlock said.

"She did this work many years ago and her ties remain strong." He smiled a little. "Your wife has many talents and one of them is being a diplomat."

"Indeed." Sherlock said.

"Oh, hello, Dr. Jefferies, Marion, a pleasure to see you here tonight."

Marion turned fully to him, her hands at her sides, balled. "Kam." She said putting on an icy smile. "A pleasure as always."

"I wish I could return that. I came to see what you did with my money." He said.

"It was never yours to…" Jefferies started, but Marion lifted a hand.

"Save your breath. He isn't worth it." She said. "Kam, perhaps you should go see the exhibits and get a feel for how a real project can be done."

"Well, we can't all be in bed with directors now can we." Kam said icily.

"I do not think I like what you are insinuating." Mari said folding her arms. Kam looked at the swell and his eyes narrowed.

"My, my, you have gotten around. Does the father know or are you standing next to him?" He asked looking at Jefferies.

"Keep your voice down." Jefferies warned.

"What? Just because the little whore got her way?" Kam hissed.

"Kam you are drunk. Leave. Before we have you removed." Mari said.

"I will leave when I have what I want, _Doctor Bayezid._"

"And what is that?" Jefferies asked.

"My life back."

"Then I would suggest taking a class on people skills and manners, boy." Jefferies hissed.

Sherlock shifted and Kam seemed to notice he was there. "Oh and who might you be?"

Sherlock cocked his head looking at the young upstart. He was about his wife's age, perhaps younger. Sherlock looked the younger man. "Marion is correct, you are drunk. You really should leave."

"Touching. Marion you seem to have a flock of lovers to defend you."

Sherlock leaned forward. "Only one of note." He said, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh?"

"I would do some research next time you start to call a woman a whore." Sherlock's nostrils flared. "Since you are currently sleeping with one, I would be doubly careful and perhaps get yourself tested."

Kam smiled a little. "Charming. Where did you find him, Mari? Another fool you have played?"

Sherlock stepped closer. "Careful. I would hate to leave you a nasty stain on his marble."

"You and what army…"

Sherlock took a breath and lifted a hand, but Mari spoke. "Sherlock!" He looked at her. "He isn't worth it. He never has been."

Sherlock lifted his head and nodded. "Marion." He said. He looked at Kam. "My wife is not a whore, sir. Now kindly, leave."

"You are Sherlock Holmes!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "And you are a lesser mammal. Considering the IQ in this room I am wondering if I am giving you too much credit since you are so far below them." He said taking his wife's arm. "If you are staying here, we are leaving." He wrapped a protective arm about her and walked toward the tables. He nodded to her to sit. She did and exhaled deeply. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you. You saved me from punching him."

"He deserved it. I would have let you if we weren't here. You need to keep your image." He smiled a little. "Shall I fetch you some punch?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled.

He went to fetch it and spotted John holding a water. "Ah, John. And how are you doing?"

"Genevie is amazing."

"And why did you pay my wife?"

John chuckled. "A bet."

"On what?"

"If she could find me a girl I liked."

"I see." Sherlock said grabbing another flute and some more punch. "Where is your date?"

"She went over to the table with Mari."

"Ah good."

The pair walked back and found Mari was not there. Sherlock frowned. "Where did she go?"

"The bathroom." Genevie said looking up.

"The bathroom?" Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "Why do you Americans always use such silly words?" He asked lifting his mobile from his pocket. He opened it and texted.

_Mari? Everything all right? SH_

"Why? Washroom seems odd as does Loo." Genevie said.

"Your accent isn't like any I have heard." Sherlock continued. "Your breathing rate is slower here, you are used to higher than sea level." He looked at her. "And you have broken your leg some years ago. Healed fully, but you still have a slight shortening of your leg from it. Skiing?"

"Yes." Genevie said smiling. "When I was twelve." She smiled. "Well now, Mr. Holmes. You are very good. Where am I from?" She opened her bag and put on some lip gloss.

A moment later he looked down as his phone vibrated in Sherlock's hand. _I am fine. I haven't even been gone five minutes, Sherlock. _

_You are taking longer than usual. SH_

_I am on my way back. It is a bit of a walk and I am carrying about ten extra pounds at the moment. _

_Fourteen. See you in a moment. SH_

_Shut-up, Sherlock. _

Sherlock looked up and smiled. "I have not heard your accent which means you are not from the south or from New England. I would put you west of the Rockies, since you like skiing, that would make sense, but the way you say some words, "Water" and "Mirror" suggests inland." He looked her over. "Elevated. Central Idaho originally before moving more south."

"I was from Challis, Idaho and moved to Park City, Utah." She blinked. "That is amazing."

"And you were Mormon originally, now you are not." Sherlock continued.

She looked at him. "How do you know that?"

"In your bag, you have two cards from missionaries." He said. "One had, 'With love from your visiting teacher.'"

She blinked and looked in her bag and pulled it out. "From the last dance I went to…two years ago. I left when I went to Uganda and they would not support a woman going there for aid work. The Lutherans were far more open."

"And Uganda is where you contacted malaria, but you have not had a relapse in sometime." He said. "Overall you are a very impressive woman."

"I will take that as a compliment from you."

"Oh don't encourage him." Mari said coming up behind them. She dropped into a seat heavily and sighed closing her eyes a moment. She took her drink from Sherlock. "Sorry, the curse of having a child sitting on your bladder." She said.

"I completely understand, Mari." Genevie said.

Sherlock smiled as his wife rested for a time. She was looking weary and he leaned close to her. "Are you tired?"

"A little." She smiled patting his hand on her shoulder.

He smiled. "Just don't under do it."

"I won't."

She then was called to the front to give a speech. Taking a breath she walked to the front and looked out at the crowd. "Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen to this exhibit. I am so glad that I am finally able to bring a piece of that is across the ocean here. England has a rich history, but the native tribes of North America are still being understood. As anthropologists have learned to speak to elders, this has not only preserved history, but kept the traditions alive. These people are running out of voices and so it is time for those of us who appreciate history to allow them to have one. Please look about and enjoy the rich history as I have. Welcome to Warriors of the Plains: 200 years of Native North American honour and ritual."

The crowd clapped and she was helped off the stage as several people crowded about her.

Sherlock watched impressed. She knew how to work a crowd and watched her thank and speak to several people. It was nearing an hour on her feet and she was shifting on her feet a couple times. He took out his phone again.

_Do I need to rescue you? SH_

She smiled. "Excuse me, sir would you?" She smiled. "The owner of the items is asking how it is going."

"Oh course."

She took the phone out from the top of her dress as she turned. She smiled a little and looked up catching his eye. _No, I am fine. Only a couple more hours. Then you will have to put me to bed. _

_How delightful. Can I see you in my pearls? SH_

_I am wearing them. They go well yes? _

_I meant only them. SH _

Her eyes lifted and he quirked an eyebrow at her playfully. She took a deep breath and exhaled as he cheeks flamed. _Behave, Mr. Holmes. We are in public. _

_So? I could steal you away to your office. No one would know. SH_

She narrowed her eyes at him. _If only John knew how much of a flirt you can be. _

_Don't tell him, for God's sake I need some of my cold-hearted reputation intact. SH_

She shook her head. _You are terrible. Good thing I love you. _

"Dr. Bayezid." A man said coming up. "I wonder if I might have a word."

"Of course." She said allowing a man to lead her away.

ZzZ

Sherlock was sitting watching the people around him. John and Genevie were not far off speaking. He looked over and saw Mari and Dr. Jefferies speaking to a man who looked to be a Native American or at least how Sherlock imagined how they should look. Dressed in street clothing with his long hair in two braids down the side of his face, he spoke to him. He seemed relaxed. He then dipped his head and stepped to the side smiling. The ornaments in his hair. Sherlock wondered if he were Sioux, Blackfoot, or Cherokee. He had no idea the differences, but he was sure Mari could tell him.

Sherlock downed the rest of his champagne. He needed to rescue his wife. She had been on her feet for more than an hour again. Something that no doubt hurt. He had seen already her ankle swelling from it. He rose to his feet and then the lights went off.

Blinking in the sudden dark there were screams of surprise.

"We will get the lights on, one moment." Came a voice of authority over the din.

Sherlock moved, his eyes adapting to the lower light faster than most.

A shot rang out.

Sherlock froze trying to make out who was where. Women screamed and moved away from the noise.

Two more shots were heard and a dull thud like a melon dropping to the floor.

"Mari?" He barked.

He moved nearly tripping over someone's dress. The shots had come from the direction where Mari had been standing.

The lights came back on and he blinked in the sudden light before a blood curdling scream rang out near him. He looked at the woman who was pointing. He followed her finger as she covered her mouth in horror.

Sherlock moved toward the scene before him. He stopped, drawing short to prevent getting blood on his shoes. He took a breath looking at the scene, memorizing it nearly instantly.

Dr. Jefferies was dead, eyes wide, a gunshot in the middle of his forehead, on the floor in a ever growing pool of blood. Behind him, in the hollow between two displays was Marion, shaking, face, neck, and shoulders covered in bloody gore, eyes wide in horror, a small handgun, a Glock 26, was in her hand, aimed upwards as she stared up into space at a point ahead of her.

"Mari?" He asked looking at her. "Mari? Can you hear me?"

She remained as she was even as Genevie and John joined him.

John took a breath. "Ummmm. This is not good."

"No, no it isn't." Sherlock agreed without looking at him.

"Did you know she had a Glock?"

"No I didn't." Sherlock said squatting down looking at the scene before him.

John stepped forward and put his hands on the gun and pulled it from her hands. Her finger was thankfully off the trigger, to the side of it, but she started shaking rather badly. John flicked the safety on and then put it in his pocket as he looked her over.

"Marion?" He waved a hand before her face as he squatted by her.

About them there was chatter of the people looking on. Some were immobile, others were chattering, and others were calling for help. He cocked his head at her.

Her eyes remained fixed and her arm dropped limply to her side even as she shook. Clearly in shock she wasn't moving and would not respond to John's repeated questions. Genevie joined him and then looked back at Sherlock who was looking at the ground carefully.

"What is he doing? His wife is in shock?"

"Being Sherlock. Murder is always more important." John muttered as he looked her over searching for anything to get her to calm down and speak to them.

A single tear ran down her right cheek, but she had not made a sound.


	10. The Murder of Innocence

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 10 – The Murder of Innocence

"Mari!" John barked snapping his fingers.

Mari stared straight ahead as Genevie touched her arm. "We need to get her to lie down."

"Agreed."

"Why? She will be fine." Sherlock said above them. He squatted down and shook her a little even as Genevie moved and gasped in protest. Her eyes blinked and she whimpered pushing him away. "See." He said.

John muttered and shifted a little. He then lifted her up in his arms and carried her from the room with Genevie behind and Sherlock looking over the scene. John looked for a room with something for her to lie on as he moved.

Mari grabbed as his lapel trying to get his attention. "John…"

"Here Mari. You need to have a lie down. Calm your head."

"John…put…me…down…NOW!" She managed pushing away from him. He lost his grip and she dropped to the floor on her knees. She grunted and tried to scrambled away from them even as John reached for her. Her stomach heaved and everything came from her stomach violently as she barely held herself up.

Genevie sighed and John shook his head sadly as they waited for her to be done. The poor thing did not have much, but her body was in a sad state. She was covered in blood spatter, chipped bone, and brain material.

She then panted and curled up in a ball. John looked at her and then nodded to Genevie as they lifted her to her feet again and walked to a room. There was a couch there and John felt start to shiver. "Mari, sweetheart. Are you all right?"

She looked up at him and then looked away. Her eyes were still wild.

Genevie looked at John. "We may need to sedate her. She is in shock and it isn't good for the baby."

"I know." John said as he helped her lie down. She faced away from them and he elevated her legs, his hand going to her, trying in some regard to soothe her.

ZzZ

It was only a few minutes later when Sherlock came to the door. He had bypassed the vomit on the floor. He made a face, but realized from the red hair around it and a small bit of wispy gray-blue cloth that it had been from his wife. He shook his head.

He looked in at his wife, still covered in blood and gore, eyes open, but facing away from anything. Her finger was tracing the pattern on the couch.

"Marion?" He said. "I need to ask you some questions."

John looked up at him and shook his head. "I haven't gotten anything out of her since she threw up."

Sherlock grunted and walked to her and rolled her to him looking at her. She did not meet his gaze and was humming softly. His brow furrowed. "Mari?" He set her down, recoiling as she didn't even acknowledge him.

"Sherlock she is in shock. We need to get her home and showered. She needs rest." John said.

"But the murder of her friend. We need to solve it. No, she needs to tell me what happened!"

"Sherlock. You can't get her to just snap out of it. She has been traumatized. Doing anything of the sort could force her deeper into herself."

Sherlock hissed. "Psycho babble."

"She needs to be treated as a victim of a crime until her brain can for the lack of a better word, reset itself."

He grunted in annoyance and stood up. "Keep watch in her then." He muttered.

"Where are you going?" Genevie asked.

"To find out what happened. Clearly, she will not be any help for some time." He said looking back at his wife. He was gone just as he had come and Genevie looked at John who sighed.

"He is like that."

"But she is his wife. Doesn't he care for her welfare?"

"Naturally, but we are here and he can't stand to be bored."

"That is morbid finding a murder most interesting than his wife in shock."

"Well that is Sherlock Holmes for you."

"What does she see in him then? I mean he is very attractive, but seriously, this is cold even for what she told me of him."

"I have seen worse." John said.

ZzZ

The police arrived. The inspector looked about at the frightened people. "All right we need to start interviewing those here. Who is the victim?"

"Dr. Jefferies, head curator for the museum." A sergeant said. She looked about and sighed. "Apparently the murderer was taken elsewhere."

"She didn't kill him."

The inspector whirled. "And who are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"And why should I believe you?"

"I was here, I am the only one panicked in the room, and she was behind him." Sherlock said.

"And?"

"The bullet came from the front of his skull to the back."

"But there were two shots and witnesses say she had a gun."

"Yes, a Glock 26. There were three shots and she fired twice. Blood spatter suggests she wounded the killer."

"Fast reaction. Where is she?"

"Being attended to." Sherlock said.

"What?"

"She five months gone with child and just witnessed the murderer of her mentor, what do you expect her to be doing?"

"Answering my questions."

"She won't give you much. She is in shock according to Dr. Watson."

"You don't believe him?"

"I am not sure what to believe, but she is up there covered in blood and brain matter from her mentor and hasn't said a word to any one, not even me."

The inspector nodded. "Get an ambulance team to the room." He said. He then looked at his sergeant. "Caution her and then have her seen. When they feel she can, bring her to the station."

"Pardon, she has done nothing wrong. She was trying to protect him."

"Or covering her tracks."

"She isn't like that."

"Oh?" The inspector asked turning to him. "So sure?"

"She is pregnant."

"You don't think pregnant women kill?"

"This one wouldn't. She was in the wrong place to kill him. However, she did wound the killer. Now if we can have everyone rounded up for questioning…"

"Who is in change here?"

"Where is Inspector Lestrade?"

"Elsewhere."

Sherlock made a face and watched him go into the crowd.

ZzZ

John rode with Mari as she was taken to hospital, her wrist in a handcuff. The sergeant was with them. Genevie remained behind to update Sherlock. John looked at Mari. He held her hand that did not have an IV put into it. Her eyes were open, but she seemed to be nearing sleep.

At the hospital she was photographed and then given a sedative to help her sleep after she became almost combative with the doctors. John remained with her, watching her. "Oh Marion. What are we going to do?"

ZzZ

Sherlock stood at the back of the gallery as the inspector stood speaking to the crowd. His arms were folded over his chest as he leaned against a table behind him. Genevie came and stood beside him. "What do we do now?"

"Wait for the moron to quit talking." He said nodding to the inspector.

They had removed the body, but left the blood stain and the spatter with the large void where Mari had been. He looked and sighed looking at the spatter pattern. "How could anyone think she did it? She was behind him, on her knees. The doctor was killed as an execution." Sherlock said. "Front to back. There were char marks on the wound. The man shot him with the gun pressed to his head."

Sherlock looked at the crowd and his eyes narrowed seeing Kam still there. He was looking about almost confused, in a daze even. Sherlock unfolded his arms and went to him. "Kam, isn't it."

"Sherlock Holmes." He greeted. "This must be a touch odd having to prove your wife innocent."

"Forensics will do that for me, but you…you might be the real killer." Sherlock looked at him looking for signs of spatter from the wound, or blood on his jacket. He then looked down at the younger man's hands. No gunshot residue. Sherlock took a deep breath. "My wife is not a killer. She lets spiders go free for heaven's sake."

"Jealousy?"

"Of what? She had your position." Sherlock said. "But you are correct this was driven by rage. An undercurrent of rage. It takes more brains and calculations than you have in your being to put a gun to a man's head and pull the trigger."

"Hang on, did you just call me stupid? I have a doctorate."

"Apparently they let anyone into programs these days." Sherlock said and turned around. He saw Genevie standing there looking at him. He walked to her and drew here away from the crowd. "It wasn't him. His clothing is free of residue."

"Then who was it?" She asked.

ZzZ

"Please state your name for the record please."

Marion sat in silence, watching the microphone. She was seated, wrapped in a blanket, watching the man. She had been allowed to shower and John had to remove her. Nurses dressed her in a hospital gown and scrub pants since her dress was needed for evidence. She was brought to the station by wheelchair. She did not resist even as she sat, hands cuffed before her.

"Fine. This is Doctor Marion Bayezid-Holmes seated at approximately half passed midnight." The inspector said looking at her. Beside him sat a female sergeant watching the woman as Mari seemed not to even see them.

John stood outside the room watching.

"John what are you doing here?"

"One of your boys is interrogating Mari." John said nodding. "Hello, by the way."

"What the hell for?" Greg Lestrade asked.

"They are accusing her of killing her mentor at the gallery."

"You can't be serious." Greg said.

John sighed and shook his head. "She was covered in gore. They think that is a sign of guilt. Anyone who knows about humans and bullets knows that means she got blow out from the exit wound."

Lestrade lifted the folder. "Says here she had a gun and it was fired, two rounds missing."

"Three shots. The kill shot and her two. I think she was protecting her mentor, not trying to kill him."

"Good theory, but how do we prove it?"

"We don't have to." Came a new voice.

Lestrade and John both turned. Mycroft Holmes was in a gray suit, red tie, and holding his umbrella. He held a folder in his hand. "John. Inspector. How are you?"

"Well." John said. "How did you know to…"

"You are to release her to my custody." Mycroft said lifting a form as he ignored the question.

Lestrade nodded. "I'll give Carmen the happy news." He smiled and went to the room.

John looked at Mycroft. "Seriously, how did you know? Did Sherlock…"

"No. Mari texted me." He said lifting his phone. _Dear brother, help. I am being accused of something I didn't do. I can pretend I am in shock for a while longer, but eventually they will know. Affectionately, Sis. _

"When the hell did she do that? I have been watching her."

"She is very clever. She used the weapon I gave her for protection for exactly that and she was sending texts while lying on her side humming softly." Mycroft smiled.

Inspector Carmen came out pushing passed Lestrade. "What the hell is the meaning of this? She is facing a murder inquiry."

"Not at this moment. She is a victim not a murderess. Fetch her for me, if you please."

"You have no authority…"

"I have all the authority I need to bring her with me and to put you back as a traffic officer." Mycroft said. "Do not threaten me, sir."

Lestrade watched him go back into the room in a huff and lift the woman to her feet. Mari's eyes remained down cast as she hummed softly, looking at her hands.

Mycroft took her arm and then nodded to Lestrade and John. "Coming?"

Lestrade blinked. "Me?"

"If you like." Mycroft called over his shoulder as John followed him.

"No I will stay here and…ummm…damage control." Lestrade said.

"Fair enough. Another time then." Mycroft said opening the door and walking his prisoner out of it. He walked down and gently helped her into the car. John got in first and then Mari who shifted making room for Mycroft.

Once inside and the driver driving away from the station, Mycroft lifted a key and Mari lifted her hands without looking. Once freed she rubbed her arms and then sighed looking at her brother-in-law. "My thanks, dear brother."

"As always I am just a call away." Mycroft smiled.

"Wait…how did you fake the sluggish heartbeat, the retreating into your mind, the pale color…" John asked.

"I wasn't faking it to start. I was in shock, but after I threw up, I felt better. However, I needed to buy time." She said. "So I went to my mind palace."

"Oh dear lord, he taught you that?"

"Of course." Mycroft said. "And I have worked with her also, however, I taught him so…"

"But what was she looking for?"

"A calm place to calm her heart rate and be unfocused."

"But you texted Mycroft."

"The two hours I was faking it." She said.

He shook his head. "Wow."

Mycroft smiled. "I brought you some street clothes."

"Thanks." She said and she began to change.

John was startled and turned as she wiggled of the scrubs and into the jeans. She then pulled off the gown revealing she was wearing a strapless bra. She pulled on the pullover and pushed back the hood. She smiled at the pair as Mycroft regarded her. John was amazed how quickly she had managed that and blinked at the clothing on the floor.

"Do you have anything on you to tie my hair back?" She asked.

He sighed and reached into his pocket lifting a scrunched up ring of elastic. "Yes."

She grinned. "Thank you."

John looked over. "How on earth would you know to have that?"

"She had very long hair." Mycroft said watching her pull it all back and then wrapped it in a bun and used the elastic to hold it. "Seems clear she would need one."

"Amazing." John said.

Mycroft looked at his sister-in-law who looked like any freshman on any campus. She had taken about fifteen years off her doing that. She blinked at him.

"What?" She asked.

"You look like a college student."

"I am not that young."

"You turn thirty soon enough, my dear sister. That makes you fourteen years younger than I."

She smiled. "I do love you Mycroft. Thank you." She said leaning up and kissing his cheek.

He smiled at her. "Anything for family, sister."

ZzZ

Sherlock sighed and jumped up on a table. "Okay I want to do a little experiment."

"Mr. Holmes. Get down. This is my investigation."

"Three minutes. It is all I need."

"Very well. But after that…I am going to take you and question you about your wife."

"That won't be necessary, Inspector." Mycroft's voice said entering the room. With him was Mari and John.

Genevie went to her friend and they stood together.

Sherlock nodded. "All right then. Who heard the shots? Raise your hand." He nodded. "Now keep that one up. "Now who heard three shots?" He said. "Go on lift the second hand." He looked about the room. "Good thank you."

He jumped down and walked toward a young man who was smartly dressed, watching. "You didn't raise your hand, but you were clearly here."

"It is all a blur."

"Really?" Sherlock asked. He lifted his hand. "And the gun residue on your hands is from…"

"I was cleaning my guns before I came here. I had been out hunting."

"Humm something about six feet tall?"

"What?" The man asked as Sherlock circled him like a wolf.

"You remember. You cut off the lights, then you came out here and ordered Dr. Bayezid to her knees and then Dr. Jefferies." Sherlock said. "You made him beg for his life before you ended it. You murdered him before Mari, to give her a warning. Why? Because you hate her. Rage. Deep rage."

"You can't prove it. It was dark. I was across the room. It could have been you…" He then gasped in pain as Sherlock reached up and pressed his fingers hard against his shoulder. The man cried out, dropping to his knees in pain.

"But you didn't count on her being armed. She shot you before you could murder her as well. What kind of man kills a woman carrying an innocent?"

"The kind who hates the face she works in the museum. We used to be a proud white institution. Then Dr. Jefferies hired her and Dr. Ruby." He made a face. "Damaged the reputation of this place having sound research."

"What?" Mari's voice barked.

"Mari." John said reaching for her as she stepped forward.

"Oh there is the bitch now." He said looking at her.

Sherlock lifted his hand away and the man took a shaky breath. He looked at the inspector. "I assume I made your case for you?" He said looking at the on lookers.

"Yes." The inspector nodded. "Caution him." He said.

Two officers went to the man and lifted him to his feet. They found his military grade handgun the back of his pants. They were getting ready to cuff him when he looked staring at Mari talking to Mycroft, John, and Genevie. He growled and threw the man down and charged drawing a knife.

Sherlock reacted, but was too slow. Genevie jumped before her friend as the man stabbed down, knocking her out of the way. Two shots rang out and everyone in the room gasped again. The man dropped dead, falling backwards, blood blooming over his heart as he landed on the marble, a startled look on his face.

Sherlock arrived and took in the scene. Mycroft was holding his duty weapon. Mari was on the floor looking up. She crawled to her friend as Genevie looked down at the knife in her chest. It was large and military grade, the handle sticking out from her. It had caught her square in the chest. She moved her mouth a little and John caught her. The blade had been turned and went between her ribs. By the placement it had cut her aorta.

She looked up at him, blood bubbling at her lips. "Sorry…about the date." She whispered.

"Hush..we will get you mended as good as new." John said pressing on the wound.

"I don't think so." She looked at Mari who looked at her, tears in her eyes. She touched her friend's cheek. "Sorry about the dress, Mari…So sorry…" She gasped and her head lolled back. John pressed his fingers to her neck and then took a breath. He shook his head.

Mycroft shook his head. "Well that is a shame."

Mari rose to her feet slowly. Mycroft reached out as did Sherlock and she shoved them both away.

"I'm fine…go away…" she said. She walked to the door only a few feet away and shook as she started to weep. The stress of the day was catching up to her.

Sherlock followed her with Mycroft. She knew they were there and said nothing as she looked out. Tears ran down her cheeks. "Why, Sherlock…why?"

"It was her time." He said simply. She stepped forward to protect you." He said.

"She survived Uganda. Only to die here and take a knife meant for me."

Sherlock cupped her chin. "Survivor's guilt has no place here. She was very brave. Don't spoil it."

"But…"

"No." he said his eyes flashing.

She looked down and panted a little. She took a couple breaths. "I think I may need to lie down…" She said and reached for her head. "So…wobbly…"

"Marion?" Sherlock asked and then caught her to him as she fell backward. He looked at her dreamy face and sighed. He shifted her, lifting her limp body in his arms. "Well I think we should head to hospital, don't you, brother?"

Mycroft looked at his brother. "Who was she?"

"A friend." Sherlock said. "A good friend." He said looking back at Genevie as John looked at her and closed her eyes. Police came forward and called for medical help, but John was shaking his head sadly.

"Clearly, but her name?" Mycroft asked.

"Genevie Arlington, MD." John said rising. He looked at her life blood on his hands and sighed. "American, orphan, world traveler, friend of Baker Street."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes."

Mycroft opened the door and Sherlock walked out holding his wife's body to him as she lay unconscious in his arms. Sherlock hopped into the ambulance that arrived. Mycroft joined him as they laid her down on the gurney.

"I am glad this bloody day is over with." Sherlock said.

"It is nearly dawn." Mycroft pointed out. "We will all need some sleep when this is over."

ZzZ

Marion closed her eyes as a cool breeze hit her back. Her tears cooled on her cheeks. She looked at the grave marker of her friend. The marker was marble and the freshly carved words made her heart ache. How she would have loved to have her stay in London, be with John, make them both happy…

_Genevie Arlington_

_Daughter, Friend, Hero_

_Born: August 10 1978_

_Died: January 3 2011_

_We thank you for all you have done._

_-The Holmes Family_

She laid a white rose on the earth and sighed looking upwards. "I am sorry, Viv. So sorry."

"You didn't kill her." Sherlock's voice entered her thoughts. He stood behind her and to the side. He sighed. "How often are you planning on visiting her?" He asked as he shifted, his shoes breaking the snow crust with a crack.

"She had no family Sherlock. I have to…"

He nodded. "Sentiment that I do not fully understand."

"If I hadn't…" She took a shaky breath. "She was so happy here. London suited her. I wish she knew how much I wish I could thank her…for everything…"

She found herself looking at him as he hooked his finger under her shin. "Stop." He said. "She saved your life. She is a hero in my book." He said.

"She had no family, Sherlock. Her parents were dead. She wanted to help babies because she could not have them." She took a shaky breath.

He stepped behind her and took her shoulders in his hands, caressing her softly. He had made sure when she had been knocked to the floor that she and the baby were well. She had had a very rough night and not slept for a day.

John gave her a sedative and she slept like a baby for nearly a day and a half. Sherlock had made sure she was well. She had woken and they had gone to the funeral. Very few attended, but Sherlock made sure her expenses were covered. Mycroft saw to the other details.

"Poor John." She said.

"What?"

"He finally has a girl he liked."

He sighed and kissed her hair. "We will remember her, my love." He whispered.

"I will. You hardly knew her."

"True." He said. "But I will remember her sacrifice every day when this comes into the world." He said, his hand dropping to her belly. The girl within kicked him and he smiled a little and sighed. "See. She agrees."

"She was such a good person."

"No one deserves to be murdered, Mari." He sighed. "She was a good person, a wonderful doctor, and a beautiful one at that." He pressed his hand closer and leaned his head down. "I was thinking Genevie might be a nice middle name if you…"

Her breath caught. She turned in his arms. He was serious.

"You…you would do that?"

"She saved my child and my wife. Seems fitting, don't you?"

She opened her mouth and then shook her head, smiling in spite of her tears. She kissed him deeply. "I do love you, Mr. Holmes."

"I know." He smiled.

They walked back to the car, hand in hand talking.

In the trees someone stood, taking pictures of the pair together. They got into their car and drove away.


	11. One Year Older

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 11 – One Year Older

January 28 2011

It was raining harder than Marion Holmes had ever seen it. She was on vacation and she had never been so happy to be home in her life. A solid week of doing very little other than stay home and relax. She watched the rain upon the glass as she sat in the chair looking over the back. She leaned against, her head on her arms.

It had been only a couple weeks since the whole affair at the museum. Strangely, the museum had not suffered a decrease in sales or in donations. If anything having Sherlock Holmes there solving a case that involved his wife and several others did wonders.

She had gone every other day to visit Genevie, but she knew her friend would want her to slowly let her go. This weather was good inspiration. Her husband's birthday had come and gone. She had given him a gift, which he actually guessed wrong on. After a laugh they had spent the evening eating ordered in Chinese Food and watching movies since John was off on a medical training.

Mari had been amused by her husband's inability to use chopsticks. After watching him suffer for a few moments and try to make it work she had taken them from his hand and reached up and pulled out a hair tie from her hair. Startled by this she wrapped the elastic around the end to hold them. It helped, but she vowed to have more practice.

More amusing was him watching her and trying to mimic her deft movements. Finally something Sherlock Holmes didn't know how to do. She had teased him until he got annoyed with it and she had made up for it by climbing into his lap. He had tried to refuse until he had noticed she was barely clothed and only in his dressing gown. He then noticed she was wearing something, her pearls. Growling he had stood up, bringing her with him, her legs wrapped about him, and he carried her to the bedroom.

After she promised to teach him so John wouldn't make fun of him. He had smiled and thanked her with a kiss to her nose. She then curled up, wishing him a happy birthday and fell asleep, her stomach pressed to his side. He had caressed the swell for a time, feeling the soft kicks of his baby girl within her mother. It had been his best birthday in ages.

She sighed and heard someone come home. She listened, suspecting it was John, but it wasn't the footfalls were too hard from her husband's large shoes. She didn't turn when she smiled. "Hello, Sherlock." She greeted.

He looked at her and then out the window. "It is dismal out there." He said. "Have you been watching?"

"Nothing better to do at the moment."

"How boring." He pulled off his coat and scarf as he went to the bedroom to look at something. He looked at the table beside her bed. Her phone was there, but it was different. He blinked and lifted it. He came back out, holding it. "You got a new phone?"

"You did last week as well." She smiled. "My contract was over. I decided to get a Droid Razr. Problem?"

"It isn't an I Phone."

"I despise Apple." He looked up at her and then shook his head. "I have the IPhone 4." He pulled his out and handed it to her after unlocking it. She flicked through his various apps and smiled as he looked at hers. He pressed some keys and the phone unlocked and he serfed her internet.

"This actually has a fast processor." He said. "Same number?"

"Yes. Regretting your choice?"

"Not yet, but something to consider." He said smiling at her. He took his phone back and then handed her own. She smiled. "Thank you for keeping your password."

"Don't hack it. I know you make need it so…"

"I know." He smiled as he typed a text his fingers moving quickly.

She nodded and moved levering herself up. Even as she neared six months her belly was large and awkward when she had been in a position for some time. Sherlock looked at her out of the corner of his eye and offered her a hand. She took it as she gained her footing.

She took a couple steps. She was wearing comfortable pants and a yoga shirt clearly both maternity gear. She waddled and then picked up her yoga mat and went to the bedroom. She made it to the door and then paused, hissing through her teeth.

Sherlock looked over at her. He took in her bent form and stepped to her. "Are you all right?" His hand was lightly on her back, gently caressing, his long finger that could work out knots amazing well, as he leaned too, looking at her face. "Habibi?" He whispered. His other hand went to her cheek, long fingers cool as he looked her over. His green eyes held concern, deep concern.

"Yes. Just a twinge." She said taking a deep breath and straightening. He retracted the hand against her face, but the other remained to steady her a moment. She then turned to look up at him. He looked at her unsure. "I'm fine, Sherlock."

"I am not so sure. That looked like a contraction."

"Too early." She said in part to reassure herself as well as him. He gently tucked a piece of hair back behind her ear in a soft nervous gesture as he continued to look her over. She sighed and decided to change the subject so he would stop looking at her like that.

"Your parents are in town. They were planning to call later and take us to dinner."

"You couldn't make an excuse?"

"Between you and Mycroft I am the only one of the children they actually talk to. Come now, Sherlock. Just a dinner."

He arched an eyebrow. "Just a dinner?"

"Yes a family dinner. Then you and Mycroft and disappear and I will take them to see Les Mis." She smiled.

He paused a moment. "How exactly do you know them?" He asked. "I do not recall you meeting them."

"I haven't yet, but your brother insisted I phone them when we wed. They are actually looking forward to this." She paused. "I had to tell them I was pregnant, Sherlock. You should have as the proud father-to-be, but it was I who did it. Not that I am not happy, but they are good people and they want to meet me." She smiled. "As am I. You never told me they were still about."

"Must have slipped my…"

"Oh come off it. You find family tedious."

"I don't find you tedious." He said looking at her folding his arms over his chest.

"Yes, you do if I am annoyed or hormonal."

He sighed. "Well you have me there." He agreed. He sighed and stepped away and then turned back. "They actually phone you."

"Yes and quite often. Your mother seems very charming." He made a face and shook his head, his dark curls bouncing. "You could have at least called them to meet me before I was huge."

"Don't you have yoga to do?" He asked looking at her.

"Yes. Sherlock I like family. I don't have any remember."

"You have me. You have Mycroft. You have the baby."

"Yes and I have John and now your parents. Is it so much to ask for me to have some time with people who I want to know."

He sighed. "I suppose not." He said. "It was unfair to you and I am sorry." He said turning back. "I do care, you know. In my own way." He said.

"I know Sherlock. I love you." She said sighing. She sharply took in a breath and then shook her head rubbing her belly as he looked at her again his hands together, palms together under his chin, his thinking position. He arched an eyebrow and she shook her head. "She just kicked." She said.

She laid out her yoga mat and sighed taking a deep breath to calm herself.

ZzZ

Sherlock went to check on her. She in a position he had never seen. There was a soft tune on the music station and she was singing to it. It was not really words, it was her voice and it was haunting. One leg was tucked up, bent at the knee while the other was bent and turned upwards. Her foot rested in her elbow as she arched back, her hands folded together behind her head. She was breathing calmly and her haunting voice echoed on the walls.

The song ended and he watched her take a deep breath and seem to come out of a trance like state as she looked up at him a moment. "Can I help you with something?" She asked as she shifted and moved slowly until her body made a bridge, her hands and feet planted, head down, her bottom in the air.

He sat down looking at her. "How is that remotely comfortable?" He asked looking at her, cocking his head.

She smiled moving her hand slightly. "Downward dog is good. Improves circulation and takes the weight off my hips for a moment." She then looked over and gasped in surprised to see him mimicking her pose. "What are you doing?"

"Many people do this, maybe I should give it a try." He said looking at her. "How am I doing?"

"Very good, Mr. Holmes. I never thought you would be into yoga."

"Perhaps I can learn. I have a beautiful teacher." He said looking at her with a playful smirk.

"Flattery will get you everything."

He chuckled and watched as she shifted again and put her feet together, knees up. He blinked and looked down. "Hang on." He said. He removed his shoes and then mimicked her. She pushed down on her knees with her elbows, watching him.

"Butterfly. Push until you feel the stretch."

He did so and lifted his head, straightening himself and bringing his palms together before him. "Is this what you do to relax?" He asked closing his eyes.

"Yes. Relax my body and clear my head…"

"This is oddly stimulating." He said not opening his eyes.

"I have had students kick their smoking habits." She said.

He cracked open an eyeball and looked at her. "Good try, but I do not think that will work for me." He said.

"Worth a try." She said smiling.

"Perhaps."

She smiled rising and moving. She dropped down and sat between his legs. He grunted in surprise and then smiled as she fit exactly within his legs. She resumed her pose as he sat there watching her. He dropped his hands as she did to his knees and took a deep breath.

"You are quite good at this." She said after a time.

"You are not so bad yourself."

She laughed. "Modest as ever."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Indeed."

ZzZ

It was later in the afternoon when she stood dressed and ready to go. She was wearing a nice jumper and maternity pants that were very well suited for going out. She looked stunning despite her very round belly. She looked lovely and she was wearing a necklace he had not seen, but it looked very familiar.

"Sherlock? Are you ready?"

"Yes, dear." He said appearing. "Let's get this over with shall we." He muttered. He pulled on his overcoat over his suit jacket and shirt that his wife had given him. She was dressed in her own jacket and as he wrapped his scarf around himself he noticed her watching him. "What?"

"Thank you." She whispered and leaned up and kissed his cheek. He touched her cheek and kissed her on her mouth, his hands cupping her face. She was startled, but relaxed into his kiss. It was warm demanding and full of promise.

"Sherlock…oh!" Mrs. Hudson gasped coming in. She smiled as Sherlock broke off the kiss and looked up at her. She then giggled and looked at him.

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

"Your cab is here." She said smiling.

"Ah, good. Shall we then, my dear." He said looking at his wife.

"Yes." She took his arm and smiled leaning close. "I owe you." She whispered.

"Yes, you do." He smiled at her.

They walked to the cab. The driver had the door opened. Mari climbed in and Sherlock followed settling beside her. "Where to?" The man asked as he closed the door and then got in.

"Bocca di Lupo." Sherlock said taking out his phone.

"On it."

Mari smiled at her husband as he looked at his email and various other items online. "I am excited." She said.

"Are you?" He asked. "Why?"

"Because I want to know what kind of amazing genes came together to create your brother and you." She smiled at him.

He chuckled. "You may be surprised then."

"I like your mother already and I haven't met her."

"I still do not understand why this is so important to you."

"Perhaps because you still have your parents." She said and took a breath and looked away.

He looked at her. "I didn't mean to upset you." He said gently.

"I'm not."

"You are lying."

"No. I am not upset. I just wish my parents could have met you."

"I do not think they would have liked me much."

"No. They would not have, but seeing me happy, they wouldn't care who you were." She said.

He shook his head. "You are so human, it is fascinating." He said.

"So are you, you just like to forget you are when it isn't convenient." She said.

He sighed. "I do love you, you know. Waking up at your side has become so thrilling."

She smiled pacified and he lifted her hand kissing her knuckles and wedding ring. She smiled at him. "I love you too."

He looked at the plain band and rubbed his finger over it. "We need to get you another one. One that looks more like a wedding ring." He said.

"I like this one. I am not overly fond of diamonds anyway." She said.

"Still." He smiled. "It is more of a promise ring than a wedding ring."

"I was married with it." She said looking at him.

"Ah, but you, my flower, deserve better."

"I have you, what else would I want in my marriage."

He chuckled and kissed her hand again. "You will need those diplomatic skills tonight, my dear, I assure you."

She smiled. It took them twenty minutes to arrive and once there, Sherlock paid the cabbie and then got out, opening the door for his wife. He smiled as he took her hand and then took her hand as he closed the door. They walked together to the restaurant door, dodging a puddle. Once inside Sherlock noticed several people at the tapas bar and then nodded to a waitress.

"Can I help you?" She asked. She was clearly Welsh. He smiled and nodded. "We have a reservation. Five for Holmes."

"Yes. Welcome. Follow me." She said walking to the back of the restaurant. There was a loft and she led them up to it. A nice fireplace was there and Sherlock removed his overcoat and then moved to help his wife. He pulled out her chair for her.

She dropped in, gratefully, and smiled as he moved and hung up the coat on one of several hooks nearby. His scarf joined them and he walked back to his wife, unbuttoning his jacket. He moved to stand behind her, clearly too full of energy to sit yet as his fingers drummed lightly on the chair back.

"They are late."

"No, we are early. It is only a quarter to six, Sherlock." She smiled up at him.

He grunted and removed his phone, surfing while he waiting, one hand on the back of her chair. She smiled as the waitress came with some water. "Thank you." She said.

It was almost ten minutes before Mycroft arrived. He walked up and regarded his brother. "Ah, she talked you into this as well." He said.

"Quite." Sherlock said putting his phone away and resting his hands on his wife's chair.

Mycroft came over and offered a hand to her. She took it and he kissed it gently. "You are looking well. You are you two doing?"

"Fine, thank you?" Sherlock said.

Mycroft lifted his eyes. "I didn't mean you. I meant your wife and baby."

"Oh."

Mari shook her head. "I am fine, Mycroft."

The other two came up and they were carrying gifts. "Oh! Hello! At last Marion!" A woman who was about Marion's height said as she came up. She was in her seventies, her hair pulled back, green eyes quick as she looked and saw Marion there. Mycroft and Sherlock looked at each other, using the table the table as a buffer between them and their parents.

Marion, however, went to the pair as Mr. Holmes the elder arrived and took his wife's coat. Mrs. Holmes, named Elizabeth, and then pulled Marion into a hug that pushed all the air from her lungs. She squealed with delight. Mycroft sighed and Sherlock stood with him as they both took it in.

"This is why I shall never marry."

"Oh come now I broke the ice, brother."

Marion stepped back taking her mother-in-law's hands. "It is good to see you too, Mrs. Holmes."

"Oh no you don't. I am mummy or Elizabeth to you."

Marion's eyes misted and she put a hand to her face.

"Oh, Lizabeth you made her weep." Mr. Holmes hissed.

"No, it is fine." Marion said smiling even as tears stung her eyes. "I…I just do not have my parents any more and…"

Elizabeth hugged her again, this time gently and hushed her. "Why didn't Sherlock tell us?"

"Does he tell you anything?" Marion asked.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I like her, George."

"Me too. Come here, you." He said hugging her in turn. He then put her out to arms length and they looked at her belly.

"Oh you look so amazing. How are you?"

"Good." Marion said. "Twenty-four weeks today." She said.

Elizabeth clapped her hands in delight. "Oh so soon!"

Mycroft coughed a little. "Perhaps we can have some starters before you exhaust, Marion too much with standing."

Marion shook her head and then returned to her seat. Mycroft took over the end. Sherlock dropped into a seat beside his wife. George sat next to Mycroft with his wife facing Marion. Elizabeth smiled. "This is lovely. I haven't had dinner with my boys since…since…" she frowned.

"Since I finished secondary school, mother." Sherlock said.

"Indeed." She said.

Marion smiled. "I hope we can do this more often."

Sherlock made a noise and Mycroft coughed a little. Marion stared her brother-in-law down as she dug her nails into her husband's thigh.

"I am sure that would be fun." Mycroft said sarcastically.

Sherlock winced and then looked at his wife who smile sweetly at him. "Yes, dear?"

"You know that family really isn't my…sounds lovely." He gasped as her nails dug deeper. "Ouch!" He grumbled.

The dinner progressed allowing the Holmes brothers to not speak much, just listen. Actually it was quite informative as to Marion's past. Sherlock listened as he ate his soup with half an ear as his mother grilled his wife about her life before marrying her son. She was open about it and Mycroft was listening attentively.

Marion had lamb, an interesting choice for a pregnant woman, Sherlock noted as he dug into his own meal of beef agnolotti with walnut sauce. "Sherlock dear, I was telling them how we met. Who won that match?" Marion asked.

"I won the first, you the second, and clearly also the third." He said nodding to her belly.

She smiled.

"The wedding was rather sudden." Elizabeth said.

"I rather surprised him with my pregnancy, Mum." She said. "I am just thankful he didn't run off?"

"What kind of a monster did you think I was?" Sherlock asked looking up. "I was going to support you." He moodily swirled his wine.

"And now…what are you having?" Elizabeth asked. Marion looked at her husband who was suppressing a smile. "Oh go on…I want to start shopping."

"She still is some months off mother." Mycroft said.

Marion looked up. "Let her be a grandmother. You aren't giving her any soon so let her have fun."

He rolled his eyes. "I suppose you are right. I am going to be an uncle though and a damn good one."

"Indeed. This I will have to see." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock play nice." Marion said.

"Sherlock has always been a little different. We have tried our hardest, but you seem to have made progress on him." George said. "You are to be commended my dear. We could hardly keep up with that mind of his. He and Mycroft both…"

Marion looked up. "I haven't changed him at all." She said. "Why would you say that?"

Sherlock gulped the last of his wine. "Welcome to the family my dear. They both are some of the best interrogators in the world."

"We are just making conversation." Elizabeth said looking affronted.

"Indeed." Sherlock said.

Marion sighed. "I haven't changed him. He can still be the most crass unbelievable asshole to walk this earth, but he is also charming and he has put many criminals away with his work. He does have a soul and he is a good man, though he tries to bury that in his cool egotistical nature."

"Wait hang on…" Sherlock started to protest.

Mycroft smiled into his wine. "She has you to the nines, little brother." He drank and smiled thoughtful. "And here I was thinking you had her under some of your hallucinogens."

"Mycroft…"

"Yes, Marion."

"Shut it." She said looking down at him. '

He coughed and suddenly became very interested in his napkin that was in his lap. The elder Holmes couple sat back in astonishment that this young woman have brought both Holmes brothers to heel.

Sherlock set down his fork and looked at her. "You think I am the crassest asshole to walk this earth and you still married me?"

"It's those eyes." She smiled at him playfully. She looked back at her in-laws. "Gets me every time."

He blinked at her. "I…"

She smiled at him gently. "Just because you are those things does not mean I do not love you, Sherlock Holmes. I know the real you. You are like Janus. You wear two faces and I know both and am grateful to know not only this you…" She pointed to his head, "But this you as well." She said touching his chest over his heart.

He looked down at her finger and then up at her. The look of affection in her eyes, let alone what her hand was secretly doing under the table on his thigh, made him search her eyes a moment before he moved, quicker than anyone could imagine and pulled her face to him and kissed her, deeply, startling everyone, including himself.

He pulled back and growled at her as his eyes narrowed. "Damn you." He muttered, knowing she had manipulated him into doing that to shock the hell out of his family. However, he was impressed and glad she had.

She quirked an eyebrow and then smiled. "I love you too, husband."

Mycroft's jaw was open, Elizabeth was beaming, and George's eyebrows were so high they looked cartoonish. Sherlock looked at them. "What?" He asked spreading his hands. "Mycroft, do close your mouth, it is unseemly."

Elizabeth giggled. "My God, Marion you are a breath of fresh air."

George nodded. "I am going to enjoy getting to know you."

Elizabeth smiled. "I see the locket suits you."

"Locket?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. I sent it to her as part of her wedding gift, my son."

Sherlock looked at it. That was why it looked so familiar. It was a family heirloom. From his grandmother. She had commented on her deathbed that she had wanted a granddaughter to have it and failing that, a wife to one of her two grandsons.

He touched it. It was a large locket, but delicate all the same, made of white gold, it was well worn, and fit Marion's typical casual style. He smiled at her.

Dinner finished, Marion stood up and reached for her phone. She smiled. "I need to go to the loo. Won't be a moment." She said.

They nodded and she walked down to the washroom. Inside she leaned against the door a moment. _Have you had enough family time, brother? I will give you a ring in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…_

Upstairs, Mycroft's phone alerted and he looked at the text. He then narrowed his eyes a little. The little minx was letting him get out easy. It then rang. "Holmes." He said.

"You are free, brother."

"Oh, dear, that is not good, I will be in the office shortly."

"Regards." She said and hung up as she then went into a stall. As she was washing her hands she heard her phone chime. She looked down.

_I owe you. My thanks as ever. Send my regards to my parents. See you soon, sister. MH_

She smiled and walked back upstairs finding her husband dressed in his coat, holding hers. She stepped into it. "Sherlock, I just got a call from Mrs. Hudson. She said there might be something wrong with the plumbing. She was wondering if you could have a look."

"Why doesn't she call a plumber?" He asked.

Mari tapped her phone behind her as she stood. "Actually she insisted on you since you are the man of the house and all…"

"John is somewhere and…" His phone buzzed. He flicked the code and looked. _I am letting you get out of here before the play. Take it and run you idiot. Love you. _

His eyes lifted. "Oh my, John isn't there, I just remembered. You are right, being the father-to-be that I am, I need to make sure it is all well and…" Mari leaned up to straighten his collar.

"Don't overdo it." She whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. She then said louder. "Thank you husband. I am sure she will appreciate it."

He smiled and kissed her lightly and then turned to his parents. "Off to save the world. Sorry about the play."

"It is all right. I will allow us to get to know the mother of our grandchild better." George said. "Tuttle off then."

"Tuttling." Sherlock smiled and then nodded to his wife. "See you when you get home."

She watched him flick his coat collar up and call a cab.

Elizabeth took her arm. "So, tell me, has Sherlock improved on his cooking at all?"

"You mean is it still nonexistent? Yes it is." Mari smiled.

ZzZ

It was well after midnight when Mari returned home. She sighed and removed her coat. Her husband was sitting in his chair, hands together, looking into space as he sat, thinking. She removed her shoes and walked to the side of him.

She touched his cheek softly as she looked at him. He looked up at her. "Hello." He said softly.

"Hello." She said.

"How was it? As tedious as I thought."

"No, they are wonderful people and surprisingly ordinary." She smiled at him and then dropped into the other chair swinging her legs over the edge. "You both are enigmas to them."

"We always were." He said.

"I didn't expect you to still be awake."

He smiled. "I am often awake at this hour. I am just not a morning person." He said looking at her.

He rose to his feet. "Come now, you need sleep." He said. He offered his hands. She nodded and he pulled her up to her feet. She stifled a yawn and then looked about a moment before he pulled her toward the bedroom.

He looked at her. "Really, the crassest asshole…" He said pausing in the door.

"Well you are." She said.

He chuckled. "I know." He smiled. "Half the fun was watching mother look up at you when you swore."

"Was it bad?"

"I enjoyed it." He pulled her into the room. She giggled as he shut the door.

ZzZ

The next morning she was in making some tea with Mrs. Hudson. She felt a pain and passed it off as nothing. It was the day before her birthday. Mrs. Hudson was chattering about something on the television and Mari was only half listening.

She carried the tray upstairs and found her husband playing the violin. He was dressed, but he had a dressing gown on his body, opened, allowing for freedom of movement to play. She set down the tray and then dropped into the chair with some crackers.

She hissed a little in pain and Mrs. Hudson looked at her. "Are you alright dear?"

"Yes." She said smiling.

Sherlock did not stop playing, but he had heard.

She shifted about restlessly as he played looking out the window at the rain. He counted twice more that her breath caught. He turned this time and saw her wincing and holding her belly. His eyes narrowed as he set down his violin and moved to his desk. He pulled on his scarf and his Belstaff 'Milford' overcoat on. The coat was like his friend and went with him nearly everywhere.

He then fetched his wife's coat. "Come on then." He said a little impatiently.

"What?" She asked looking up at him.

He shook his head. "That was the fourth contraction you have had this hour and they are causing you pain."

"They are nothing…"

"You are far too early to go into labor and I wish to make sure you are not starting a miscarriage."

"A…" she looked at him and her eyes suddenly held panic. "Sherlock…no…I can't…No!" She shouted at him.

He realized she was now panicked and he pulled her into his arms. "Hush…calm. It is something. Come. Let us get it checked." He told her. "For me." He asked pressing his lips to her hair.

She nodded, weeping as he helped her into her coat. They flagged an umbrella and he looked at her. "Mari…focus on me. Stop thinking about the bad. Look at me!" He said.

She did. She looked up at him, half blinded from the tears.

"Where to?"

"Saint Barts." Sherlock said not looking at the cabbie.

ZzZ

The cab arrived and Sherlock pulled his wife from the cab and rushed her into the hospital. She was white as a ghost as she was ushered into a room. Sherlock stood near her, caressing her hair as much to soothe her as himself.

The doctor saw her and listened to what they both had to say and then smiled a little. "It is good you came in for pains that frequent, but have they gotten worse?"

"No. I haven't had one since we left the flat, either." She said.

He nodded. "Good."

"Good?" Sherlock asked looking at him.

"Yes. Those are contractions, but they are not anything to worry about. They are Braxton-Hicks, otherwise known as false labor." The kind doctor smiled.

"So she has not miscarried?" Sherlock asked.

"No." The doctor said. He lifted a device to her abdomen. The heartbeat was steady and the same as it had been before."

Sherlock took a deep breath.

"She should be on bed rest for at least the next couple of days to be safe, but then she can resume normal activities. You need to take more frequent rests my dear." He smiled. "Try resting on your left side. It helps with blood flow."

She nodded.

ZzZ

Once home Sherlock ushered her to bed. John looked up from the chair even as Sherlock walked, his hands on his wife's hips as he pushed her toward the bedroom. Once there he had her sit on the bed and then lay down on her side after getting into her nightdress.

"Sherlock, I am fine. He means to let me relax. I don't have to be in bed the whole time."

He grunted and then removed his coat and scarf and then sat behind her, his hand going to her wrist to count her pulse.

However, the bed was comfortable and she relaxed and soon slept as he gently braided and unbraided her hair as he sat behind her. Once she was asleep, he tip-toed out of the room and sighed as he saw John.

John looked up questioningly.

"She had a scare." He said. "Well we had a scare. She had some rather strong Braxton-Hicks contractions. She is to be on bed rest for two days."

"Her birthday is tomorrow."

"She needs to relax."

"Good luck making her."

Sherlock sighed. "I can be persuasive."

John shook his head. "She will rebel."

"Perhaps. For now she sleeps. It is good."

ZzZ

Mari slept much of the day and had woken for dinner. Sherlock refused to allow her to walk. He had carried her out for some soup and bread he had gotten at a local bakery. It was delicious and would fill her up. He had also laced the soup with a small amount of melatonin to help her sleep more.

When she was done she yawned and he carried her back to their room and the haven of the large sleigh bed he had. He laid her down and she blinked at him sleepily. He then played his violin.

He stopped when she was snoring lightly, halfway on his pillow, holding it as though it was him. He sighed and shook his head as he laid his hand on her belly. The baby shifted under his hand and he felt something distinctively like a small foot against his palm.

He smiled dipping down and kissing the swell softly before he went out into the other room to read until he became tired.

ZzZ

January 31, 2011

Mari woke and sat up, stretching. Sherlock was facing away from her, on his stomach, sleeping soundly and lightly snoring. He was still in his dressing gown and so he had been so tired that he had not taken it off when he had come to bed.

She smiled and snuggled up against his back and pressed a kissed to his shoulder as she wrapped an arm about him. "Sherlock." She whispered.

He grumbled something unintelligible and rolled over so his face was to her. He looked so young when he slept. She smiled and looked at him before she sighed and snuggled against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"Sherlock…" she said softly.

He muttered again and this time she grabbed his face and kissed him. He was fully awake as his eyes flew open and he grunted as she held him there before letting him go. He looked at her somewhat between annoyed and wanting to pounce on her.

"Morning." She giggled.

"Do you have any idea how little I have slept?"

"You run on nicotine anyway so why are you even here?"

"Fair point." He said shifting. He looked at the clock. "Actually I did sleep for about six hours."

She smiled. "Good, breakfast time." She said moving to rise, but a hand caught her arm. "Crapes are calling my name."

"Oh no, you don't. You are still on bed rest. Doctor's orders."

"But…you promised…"

"I will take you for brunch in a couple days when you are better." He said softly. "I made that promise before I had to take you to hospital."

"But…" she pouted a little and sighed lying back and rolled onto her side and shook her head.

"Marion…"

"Go away." She said shakily.

He blinked. How was it that women could go from fun and flirty on moment and then be a sobbing mess the next. He shook his head and rose to his feet. He walked around the bed looking at her. Her eyes were closed as tears dripped down her face.

Part of him hated himself and he wasn't really sure why. He walked from the room and noticed John there drinking coffee.

"Morning."

"Morning."

"Where is the birthday girl?" John asked.

"Sulking." Sherlock said lifting his violin up to play.

"So are you."

"What?"

"So are you?"

Sherlock paused and pointed at the bedroom with his bow. "She is the one who is crying for making her stay there. It is not my fault the doctor told me she needed rest."

"You are defensive. You really hate seeing her upset don't you?"

Sherlock made a face. "Women. A curious breed."

ZzZ

Marion had stayed in bed all day as she was supposed to. She was reading on her tablet and ignored her husband when he came in to dress. He had told her not to leave the bed and that he had a case, he would return before dinner. She had ignored him, though he knew she heard. He had sighed and kissed her hair and left her in the care of Mrs. Hudson who had brought her tea.

Mari had only left the bed to use the washroom, but otherwise had stayed put.

It was dark when her husband returned to her. He had spoken with the other two occupants of the home and they giggled as they both left. Sherlock made a tray up with the fresh crapes and berries he had bought. He then topped them with clotted cream. He made some tea, a skill he learned from John who called it "survival", and then put a card and small rose in a tiny vase on the tray. With everything perfect he moved to the bedroom.

"Mari?" He asked.

No answer.

He opened the door and looked in. He chuckled a little. "Come off it, you aren't sleeping." He said in a teasing way.

She shifted and muttered something.

"Come on now. Breakfast, darling."

"Breakfast?" She asked. "It is half of nine, Sherlock. PM."

He smiled. "I know."

He then went to her and pulled her up setting the pillows behind her so she sat up. She gasped and tried to stop him, but when he was done, she was quite comfortable. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Fulfilling a promise." He said smiling as he bent and lifted the tray up to her knees.

She looked at the tray and gasped. "Crapes…" She whispered. "For dinner…" Her voice cracked.

He smiled a little and sat down beside her. She noted there were two plates and some two cups. She blinked at him in non-understanding.

"It is your birthday, my love, so I brought your food to you." He said.

"But this is breakfast."

"Yes. And I promised to get you crapes on your birthday didn't I. From Frederick? He sends his love by the way." He smiled at her. "You should eat them while they are still warm."

She smiled then and then dove in as he lifted on himself and ate it smiling at the delight on her face. He sipped the tea and cocked his head at her as she ate her fill. She had some cream on her nose. He smiled and leaned forward. "Happy birthday, my darling." He said before licking the cream off and kissing her softly.

"You…you planned this…"

"Well you are only thirty once and I did promise…" He said sitting back.

She spotted the card and lifted it. She opened it as he sat back to eat his other crape, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he chewed. It was in his scrolling hand that he did when he actually wanted someone to be impressed.

_Thirty years. _

_How amazingly brilliant? You are thirty this day and I cannot believe that soon we will be married a year and bring a child into this world together. I realize now what was missing in my life? I did not have someone who I could love and cherish. Love, before was something of a distraction, and unneeded nuisance, but now I have grown to understand what it means to be so blessed. _

_Love and affection _

_The crassest asshole on the Planet. _

She looked up at him. "You really are never going to let that go are you?" She asked.

"What? Oh no." He smiled at her.

"Sherlock…" She looked up at him. "I didn't mean for you to take that so personal…"

"Oh wait." He said. He lifted a box from his pocket.

She looked at him. "You are not the jewelry giving type."

"I gave you pearls."

"Which I love, but you are more of a flowers and chocolates type."

"One is eaten and the other dies. How does that show love?"

She opened the box to reveal a ring. She put a hand to her mouth as she saw the garnets woven white gold band. He watched her, his hands pressed together. "This seemed to be the best wedding band for you since you love Celtic and garnets are your birthstone." He smiled and took the box and removed the ring.

He put it on her finger and then looked at her. "With this ring…"

"I thee wed." She said. She beckoned him to her. He shifted and sat beside her, facing her as she looked at him from her pillow nest. "I love you, Mr. Holmes." She smiled. "So much." She lifted her chin, her voice unsteady. "This is what I mean. The real you. The man behind the curtain." She shook her head. "The man I love so much with all my being."

"As I you." He whispered and lifted her chin with his finger. He kissed her, deeply before he pulled back. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." He said before wrapping his arms about her and kissing her again.

"The best." She whispered. "The best Sherlock."


	12. The Eye of the Beholder

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 12 – The Eye of the Beholder

March 20, 2011

Sherlock was walking around the main room of the flat with his dressing gown about his shoulder, slacks, and a nice shirt on as he moved away reading news on his phone. It was a rather cold and wet day in London. No one in the house seemed to wish to go out yet.

John was drinking coffee at the desk while Marion, Sherlock's heavily pregnant wife was still sleeping or at least had not come out of the bedroom yet. It was still fairly early in the morning, and Sherlock saw no reason to wake her.

She was due to start her maternity leave on the first of April since she was due in the latter part of that month and the museum had advised her to do so. She was to take forty weeks off of which thirty-nine of them were paid and the other would be vacation she had banked. She would be off work until February of the next year unless she chose to return early.

Sherlock paced about the room and then his phone rang. Lestrade was on the line asking for help. They had a cold case. There was a body that had been found with ties to Shrewsbury. The case had been cold for more than two years, but now, in a building site, the case was reopened when the bones of a small boy, Henry Silverton, were found in a shallow grave of the earth.

Several boys had gone missing from Shropshire, over ten years, but no bodies were found.

Until now.

Sherlock looked at John. "We have a road trip ahead of us." He looked up. "Mari!" He barked. He walked back to his bedroom and pulled out his suitcase and began to throw things in it.

Mari looked at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We have a road trip."

She groaned.

"Oh come on it will be fun. Besides, have you ever been to Shrewsbury?"

"No." she said sighing as she sat up. "Read about it." She lifted her tablet to reveal the book she had been reading.

He took it and cocked his head. "_A Morbid Taste for Bones_. Interesting. Sounds gruesome."

"This one is fascinating."

"Why because they are in Wales practically?"

"Somewhat." She yawned and moved about to dress. "If we are going somewhere we need to get me some bottled water."

"Why?"

"I do not know how my stomach will take new water." She said.

"Odd thing to worry about." He said looking up from packing.

She rolled her eyes and nodded to the suitcase. "How long we going to be gone then?"

"A couple days."

She narrowed her eyes and then moved to pack for herself. He closed it and she leaned back, a hand on her back as she stood, balancing the rather large amount of weight she was carrying. He then took the bag and smiled at her. "It will be worth it. It is the country. Fresh air would do you some good."

"Right…" She said rolling her eyes at him.

They dressed and then went out with John right behind. They loaded their bags and then got in, the three of them making a tight fit in the taxi he had called. The train arrived on schedule. The three sat in the first class car. Marion was sitting looking out the window sipping her water from a water bottle.

The train ride took several hours, but they arrived at Shrewsbury in the evening. John and Marion went to inquire about rooms at an inn downtown. The one Mari liked and looked into was a lovely B and B next to the Abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. John got a room there as well and Mari set about getting her room set up.

The B and B gave her some water bottles. She was halfway through one when her husband walked in and smiled a little at her. "I see you are getting settled."

"Yes."

"Ready for some dinner?"

"I am starved." She said.

"We can't have that. Tut-tut Doctor Holmes…"

"You wouldn't let me eat before."

"You were sleeping." He pointed out. "Why wake you?"

"But you woke me to come here."

He nodded. "Yes. Come on then. I have heard that Shrewsbury cakes are delicious."

"Do you eat nothing, but junk food when I am not around?"

He smiled as they walked out the door. "Sometimes. I actually have a very high metabolism for my size and age."

"Yeah. For which some of us are jealous."

He smiled a little and paused a moment as she blinked reaching for the wall. He looked at her. "Mari?"

"Nothing…just a headache. I am fine." She said. "I just need food."

He nodded.

They met John at a small bistro down the street. John and Sherlock talked about the case while Mari sat, distractedly playing with her pasta. She ate her fill, but was staring into space for a time until Sherlock reached up and snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. She blinked, startled, and looked at him.

He smiled. "There you are?"

"Sorry, I was worlds away."

"Clearly." He said. He looked at her as she sat, hands on her very rounded belly. He knew she was becoming self conscious about the baby weight. The baby had clearly dropped before. Mari could now breathe easier, but the baby was on her bladder more. She still was suffering from heartburn, which was why she was drinking water. It seemed to make it less.

She looked up at him. "What were you saying?"

"I was just commenting that it was a beautiful night." He said. He looked at her. She looked about and nodded.

"Yes."

"My, you are very distractible." He said.

"I think I am just tired. I am going to lie down." She rose to her feet and Sherlock rose and helped her to maneuver around a table. He then let her go as she waddled toward the B and B. Sherlock watched her a moment and then sat down.

"Remarkable how she even moves with so much weight."

"Women are remarkable creatures. Aren't you going to go see to her?"

"No. I need to speak to the police."

John blinked. "So you are going to let her go in a strange town?"

"It is three blocks." Sherlock said leaving money on the table as he pulled on his coat.

"Still."

Sherlock just shook his head and walked the opposite way toward the police station. Lestrade was there with the evidence of the cases waiting for him.

"Good to see you made it in good time, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

"Yes. Thank you." Sherlock said.

"John." Lestrade greeted.

"Greg." John said nodding.

"You seem to be missing one? Where is that lovely bride of yours?" Lestrade asked.

"Lying down." Sherlock said. "She tires easily these days. The baby has dropped and making it hard for her to move."

"Soon then?"

"Soon what?" Sherlock asked looking up.

"Soon the baby will be born?"

"Yes." Sherlock said waving a dismissive hand. "Now about the case."

Sherlock was gone have the night looking at lab results. When he finally came back, Mari was sleeping on the bed, curled on her side. He smiled looking at her. She had gained weight and her ankles that he could clearly see, were swollen.

He quickly got ready for bed and crawled in behind her. She murmured in her sleep and shifted, but did not roll over. He gently caressed her belly and she groaned a little. The baby was moving, he could feel her, but Mari did not wake. Sherlock smiled and fell asleep listening to the rain that was against the window pane that had started as he came into the B and B.

ZzZ

Marion sat as she drank her water. Her doctor had told her to drink as much as she could to stay hydrated and she was doing that, though she had to go to the washroom a lot. She sat looking at files before her that Sherlock had given her to study. She was looking at the pottery sherds that they had found in the dirt with the boys. Old. Very old.

She blinked trying to concentrate. Her heart was beating faster than normal. She took a breath. That was odd. She took another drink of water and looked. The words seemed to move a little on the page. That was impossible!

She blinked. She lifted her phone. _Sherlock. I don't feel well. _

A moment later. _Contractions? SH_

She shook her head. _No, my blood pressure is up. I am going to walk around the abbey. Let my mind settle. _

_It is raining. Are you sure? SH_

_Positive. _

She put on her coat and walked outside into the cold wet dark. She walked around the abbey and listened to Vespers. She then walked back to the B and B. She was thirsty. She opened a water bottle and drank half of it. She sighed. She didn't feel better, in fact she felt worse.

What the hell was going on?

She drank more water and blinked. She was so thirsty and yet…

ZzZ

Sherlock came to the B and B late after helping the police search for and find another boy that had been taken. This one still lived, but the murderer was nowhere to be found. Sherlock entered the room and found it dark. He smiled. Perhaps she already slept. He removed his coat, scarf, and suit jacket. He set them on the chair and then cocked his head trying to make her out in the low light.

He touched the wall leaning against it to remove his shoes. He then blinked. The wall was wet. He cocked his head. He shifted and flicked on the light. He looked at his fingers.

Blood!

Fresh and still sticky.

He gasped and looked about the room. "Marion!" He barked.

He then froze hearing her voice. Her voice, with an odd high pitch to it. Like a child only hauntingly beautiful. "The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain and the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again…"

He walked around the bed and his eyes widened in horror. She sat with a bloody knife in her hand, her arm oozed blood from several cuts she had made. She held the knife and dropped it to her side, holding it. Blood, crimson, bloomed from her side.

"Oops." She said looking down and then she began to laugh. It was not the laugh of humor, it was the laugh of someone not in their right mind.

He dropped beside her. "Mari! What the hell is going on?"

"Oh there you are…" She grinned at him. Blood stained her mouth as though she had been licking her own blood.

"Mari…stop!"

He reached for the knife and she hissed at him and he lifted his hand back. "All right. All right… easy, sweetheart."

Her eyes looked at him, blood shot, eyes narrowed to pin points. The look was that of desperation and madness as though she were at war with herself. She then looked at him. "Help me!" She begged.

"I will, but first I need you to…" He reached and pressed a hand to her arm. "What have you done?" He asked looking at the blood stained carpet.

"I'm killing the spiders." She said her voice eerie, ethereal, like nothing he had heard from her before, but he had heard the tone before. That of someone on a trip of a narcotic and this one was powerful enough to be causing her to be delusional. As he watched she drove the knife down into her thigh. "See. Got him." She smiled insanely at him.

He reached a hand up and cupped her face. "Mari! You are drugged, what happened? Who did this?" He asked. He took her arms and shook her. "Marion! Snap out of it!" He knew her pregnancy was likely making the effects worse for her.

She snarled and broke free his fingers leaving bruises on her tender flesh as she moved to her feet, with a cat like grace that belayed her condition. He watched her. Had he been this insane when he had tripped? He had no idea. He moved toward her a little and she slashed at him.

"Get back!" She slashed and caught him. She cut him, in a thin line along his chest as he jumped back from her. It stung, but was hardly lethal. She crouched watching him. She looked utterly mad, her hair in disarray, her forearm, thigh, and side bleeding.

Sherlock dropped into a similar pose. He was going to have disarm her and get her seen. Her heart rate was elevated by how she was breathing. Her forearm was oozing in a way that could only be if she nicked a vein. She, however, was too high to feel pain at the moment. She looked like a rabid dog as she glared at him. She wiped a hand over her brow, leaving a streak.

"Marion. I need to get you to hospital. You aren't well."

"No! No!" She hissed dropping to her knees. She was out of breath, panting.

"Marion?"

"Get away from me! Don't touch me! This is all your fault!"

"What?" He asked spreading his hands.

She gestured at her belly. She snapped something he did not hear. She couldn't breathe as the blood pumped in her ears. "Make it stop!"

"What?"

"Everything?!" She shrieked at him. "Get it out! Get it out!" She barked lifting the blade over herself.

His eyes widened. "Mari! NO!" He knew her intention. He leapt forward, knocking the blade away and grabbing her wrists. Her lifeblood made her arms slick and she managed to free herself one of her arms. She boxed his ears. He grimaced and then pushed against her wrist, hard, causing her to yelp in pain as he twisted. The knife clattered away.

She struggled and moved to the side knocking over things. She fought like a woman with a demon in her. He needed to end this for all three of them. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. She had been drugged with some sort of stimulant that made her have the aggression of a stag. He had never seen anyone fight so hard.

"I want it out!" She sobbed.

He grabbed her, pinning her. "Mari, this isn't you! Snap out of it!" He barked at her. He slapped her, hard on her face. She looked back as though she didn't feel it, though her face started to bruise where a palm print was forming.

He shifted, holding her around her neck. She gasped as he pressed her arteries. He clapped a hand over her mouth and nose. She struggled for less than thirty seconds in his sleeper hold before she whimpered and fell against him.

He took a breath and eased her to the floor. He checked her pulse. She was alive and her heart rate was still alarmingly fast, but she was no longer a threat to herself or others. He quickly ripped the sheet and bound her hurts to stem the blood flow. He took a deep breath, wincing as it caught the cut on his chest.

He sighed and lifted his phone. He called Lestrade and an ambulance to come. He then called John.

John pushed open the door. He spotted Sherlock knelt by the inert form of Marion, his hand pressed to her forearm over a binding. "What in God's name happened?" John asked seeing blood all over. The walls, Marion, and Sherlock all had blood.

"She was drugged. She wasn't herself John. She was cutting herself. She tried to stab the baby!" He said looking up at his friend in confusion. "Even at my worst I never tripped that bad." He said looking at his wife.

John knelt and pressed his fingers to her neck. "She lives…just knocked out."

"I had to knock her out. For her own good. It was like she was possessed, John." He blinked and sighed.

"Is all this blood hers?"

"Yes…" Sherlock said.

John looked at him. "You are wounded too."

"It is nothing." Sherlock waved him off. "She slashed at me. She didn't do any real damage." He said.

"Why was she trying to stab you and the baby?"

"God only knows. Narcotic trips make you see thinks that aren't there." Sherlock said.

"And you know about it, do you."

"Yes." Sherlock hissed. "A life time ago."

"What drug then?"

"I need a blood test. Then to see what how it got into her system, we have eaten everything the same…" He looked up as medics came to the room followed by police.

"Holy mother of God." The shorter in a suit said.

John lifted a hand. "She is alive. She needs to get to a hospital and detoxing. She has been drugged."

"Yes some sort of stimulant." Sherlock said looking about the room.

"Who are you?" The man asked John.

"Dr. John Watson."

"Sergeant Loch."

"Pleasure."

"Alright and who is she?"

"My wife." Sherlock said as the medics lifted her onto a gurney and strapped her down. "She has been heavily drugged. I am not sure how, but…"

One of the medics leaned close to the Sergeant and spoke. Loch nodded as Sherlock moved to follow. "Stop right there."

"I need to go with my wife. The baby…the drugs could have harmed her…"

"And how did she get them?" Loch asked folding his arms.

"I have no idea."

"Any history of drug use?"

"Are you kidding?" John asked. "She won't even take a headache tablet."

"Excuse me." Sherlock said.

"No. I am bringing you to the station. The medics said there were marks of violence on her. Bruises, cuts, and older cuts." He looked at Sherlock. "She get too loud so you thought you would knock her about a bit…"

Sherlock looked at him. "Pardon?"

"You heard me."

John stepped forward. "Sherlock isn't that kind of man. He had to knock her out, but that is all."

"Then what are all the cuts on her from?"

"Self harm." Sherlock said.

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Loch asked.

"One that might listen." Sherlock said.

"Put your hands behind you."

"Why?"

"Because I am holding you on an inquiry." Loch said. He locked the cuffs on Sherlock's wrists as he stood not resisting. "My old man liked to knock my mom around. I do not like men who beat the holy hell out of their wives."

"The cuts she did herself. The knife is somewhere." Sherlock looked up. "John. Call Mycroft!"

"Seriously?" John said. He could not believe Sherlock was willingly contacting his brother for help. They had a tedious relationship and Marion was the lynch pin. If nothing more at least he could see to her welfare.

"I need him." Sherlock said as he was walked out of the room.

John nodded and moved out and moved to the ambulance. "I am going."

"They arrest her husband then?"

"For now." John said as Sherlock was put into a police car. He took a breath and then pulled out his phone as he looked at Mari. "Is the baby all right?"

"We can't tell, but it will be stressed if she is higher than a kite." The medic said.

John sighed and texted. _Mycroft, Sherlock has been arrested for spousal abuse. Mari was drugged. She is in serious condition in Shrewsbury hospital. Come quick! John Watson_

He sighed looking at Mari whose body looked like she had been covered head to toe in blood. "Oh Mari…what happened to you?"

He looked down as his phone chimed. _I will be there within two hours. Mycroft Holmes. _

ZzZ

John stood outside the hospital room and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Marion had been in surgery for a more than two hours. They had brought her back. They baby was being closely monitored. So far it lived and was only a little stressed. It has survived and its mother was detoxing. They had given Mari a sedative to keep her out while her body detoxed the chemical from her.

She had been poisoned by an amphetamine derivative that had hit her harder because she had been pregnant. Thankfully, the baby did not seem to be suffering the effects other than a faster heart rate, but it too was settling. However, if it looked in distress, the doctors would do a crash c-section to get her out. At 36 weeks approximately, she would be small, but could live in this day and age. Everyone hoped this would not be the case.

"Marion. Is she all right?" A male voice came into John's thoughts.

"Mycroft." John said turning.

"Well?"

"She is detoxing from amphetamines."

"Poisoned then."

"Looks like it, but Sherlock is being called an abuser. She is cut pretty bad and the bruises from him trying to control her while on her trip are pretty damning."

"The cuts?"

"She was cutting herself. Apparently she has done that before. I have seen her arms. Cut pretty bad on her forearm."

"Yes. Self-harm. She did it due to her attack. She only does it now when extremely stressed."

"She still does it?"

"Of course. Like my brother and nicotine, she has her old habits." Mycroft said.

"It was close Mycroft. She could have died."

"Then we need to find what happened and clear my brother so he can solve this case."

"Yes."

"I will catch up. I am going to the station to talk to Sherlock. Lestrade is there too. We should be able to get this sorted. Women complicate things don't they…"

John merely nodded as Mycroft walked down the hall.

ZzZ

Mycroft walked into the police station. He leaned on his umbrella as he looked about and spotted Lestrade talking to several other police.

"DI Lestrade." Mycroft smiled.

"Mycroft." Lestrade said. He nodded moving them away from the other officers.

"What has happened?"

"They want to charge him with attempted murder and assault."

"Surely, you can't believe that."

"The pictures I have seen are pretty damning."

"Sherlock loves her. He would not lay a finger on her."

"The hand on her face is about the size of his."

"He had to knock her out for the safety of his baby and her." Mycroft said. He sighed. "I would have done the same thing."

Lestrade sighed. "All right. Let's see what he has to say."

Mycroft stood looking into the room as Loch sat at a table looking at Sherlock who was sitting still. Lestrade folded his arms as Sherlock eyed Loch.

"Do you really think I would harm my wife? I took her in, married her. She is an orphan."

"She has bruises on her body. Old and new."

"I hate to say this, but she is a bit of a klutz with her belly so far out in front of her." Sherlock said.

"And the cuts on her arms."

"Self harm? Yes. She does it when she is stressed. Like I put on nicotine patches."

"There are some there that are years old." Loch said. "You haven't been married that long."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He then looked at Loch. "She suffered a brutal attack at sixteen."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And she couldn't cope so she cut herself to deal with the pain." Sherlock said.

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is the truth."

"They said there were cuts on her thighs also."

"Again. She hated herself after her attack."

"Did you know her then?"

"No, but we have talked at length about it." Sherlock said.

"And what happened?"

"It is not your concern." Sherlock said.

Mycroft looked at Lestrade. "Do we really need to bring this up?" He asked.

Lestrade eyed him. "You know what happened."

"Yes." Mycroft said.

"Tell me." Lestrade said.

"She was kidnapped, held in a dark room, raped by at least six men for a month. Do you really need to know more?" Mycroft asked.

"Jesus…" Lestrade muttered.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how she was drugged. We have been eating and drinking the same…" He then looked to the side. A small bottle of water sat there for him. "Except…" He blinked and lifted the bottle. "The water…"

"What?" Loch asked.

"She was drinking bottled water. I need those bottles from the hotel."

Mycroft looked at Lestrade as they stood outside. Lestrade nodded. "On it." He said moving.

Mycroft then moved and stepped into the room. "This interview is over."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Mycroft Holmes. My brother hasn't done anything criminal, or at least nothing you can prove." Mycroft looked at his phone as it buzzed. "We have other matters to attend to."

Sherlock lifted his shackled hands. "If you don't mind."

Loch hissed and then freed him. "I am going to be watching."

Sherlock rose. "Thank you." He said nodding to his brother. "What is going on?" Sherlock asked as Mycroft ushered him out.

"Marion is waking up." Mycroft said holding up his phone showing the text from John.

ZzZ

John stood outside the door. "They won't let me in because I am not family." He said nodding to the doctors with Mari. "She has been fighting, crying out for you Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded and walked into the room with Mycroft on his heels. He looked at the pale battered form of his wife. She looked like hell and it mostly was self inflicted. "Marion." He said softly as he came to her bedside.

"Who the hell are you?" The doctor asked.

"Her husband." Sherlock said not taking his eyes off Mari.

"And you?" The doctor asked.

"His brother." Mycroft said.

Marion looked up at Sherlock and tears came to her eyes. "Sherlock…I am so….so sorry….I…"She whimpered. She moved her arm. "Everything hurts…why does everything hurt? I…" she stopped and then gasped. "Oh…" She lifted her arm and looked at the wraps on it. "I did this…didn't I…"

Sherlock touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You remember don't you?" He said. "You were high as hell, but you remember. That look. You couldn't stop yourself…"

"I couldn't stop. I…I hurt you." She said touching his chest.

"No." He smiled a little. "Just a scratch."

"I feel horrible." She blinked and looked around. "The room is spinning."

"Close your eyes." Mycroft said.

"What?" She asked.

He lifted a hand and covered her eyes. "It will keep you from becoming ill. Just rest."

"Mycroft. What are you doing here?"

"Helping my brother." He sighed. "And helping you dear sister."

"What is going on?" She asked.

Sherlock smiled and caressed her hair softly. "Never you mind. You need to rest. The baby needs to stay in there a little longer." He said pressing a hand to her belly.

He then turned and walked from the room. "I need to look at the bottles."

"Bottles?" John asked.

"Yes, John. What is the one thing she has been doing that we have not been?"

"Drinking…from water bottles."

ZzZ

"These are all we can find." Lestrade said setting them on a table.

"Do you have a drug test kit?" Sherlock asked.

"No, but I can get one." Lestrade said.

Sherlock nodded as he looked at the bottles.

"So poisoned then?" John asked looking at the bottles.

"In a way, yes." Sherlock said. "Amphetamines would do that." He looked at the bottles. "The question is why?"

"Clearly to get at you." Mycroft said.

"Obviously." Sherlock said.

Lestrade entered the room and Sherlock opened a bottle and poured some of the liquid in. He then pressed the strip into it. He waited a few moments and then lifted the tab out. A thin rose line was there.

"Positive." He murmured.

Mycroft shook his head. "Now we know how and why, but who remains a mystery." He said.

Sherlock looked at the bottle and then John tipped one. "The lids…" He said.

"What?" John asked.

"I need the lids!"

John and Lestrade took the lids off. There were twenty lids there. "H-O-E-J-H-B-E-E-G-G-D-M-R-D-A-S-S-M-L-E." Sherlock said. "Not all the letters are here."

"Missing four." Mycroft said. "Twenty-four pack."

Sherlock nodded as he looked at the letters before him. He blinked and folded his hands as the letters flashed in front of his eyes. He blinked.

Mycroft, John, and Lestrade sat watching. It only took an hour before Sherlock moved the letters about.

_D_

_Holmes_

_Has_

_Bee_

_Dr-gge_

_JM_

Mycroft gasped. "Dr. Holmes has been drugged. JM."

John blinked. "But there are letters missing."

"Exactly four." Sherlock said.

"J-M?" John blinked.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me…" John said.

"James Moriarty." Sherlock hissed.

Mycroft looked at Sherlock. "He has overstepped his bounds this time." He took a breath. "We need to put a security detail on you for Mari's sake and…"

"No." Sherlock said looking at the words.

"No? Dear brother, he nearly murdered your wife and unborn child." Mycroft said.

"No. He was not meaning her to have as much as she did." He blinked. "He wants me to suffer."

"And her death wouldn't do that?" John asked.

"Not in the way you are thinking." Sherlock said.

Lestrade sighed. "This is all well and good, but they are still going to try to charge you with assault on your wife."

"She will tell them off." Sherlock said.

"What?"

"She remembers." Mycroft said.

Lestrade blinked. "Really?"

ZzZ

The court was held. Sherlock offered a defense for himself that was cool, calculating, and explanatory, but prosecuting attorney didn't want to let him go just yet.

"The marks on her body. There are old and new cuts as well as bruises. Clear signs of abuse. This is clearly fact."

"No it is only one explanation of the facts shown." Sherlock said.

"There are others?"

"Yes."

"Elaborate."

"I do not see how my wife's past is relevant to this." Sherlock said.

The judge looked at Sherlock. "Answer the question, Mr. Holmes."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I will not mention that horror." Sherlock said.

"Then unless there is any other witnesses who can be brought you will be going to jail." The judge said. "Despite your reputation, I would gladly see you rot there for what I have seen you did to her."

"I didn't do it." Sherlock said coldly. "My wife did it to herself. It is called self harm."

"Why on earth would she harm herself?" The judge asked.

Sherlock took a deep breath, but then a voice spoke. "Because was I was drugged."

The judge's eyes lifted to Mari seated in a wheelchair, an IV pole above her, dripping liquid. She looked pale and rather frail looking as Mycroft and Lestrade stood behind her. Lestrade then pushed her forward.

"Mari." Sherlock said. "You shouldn't be here." He said.

"Oh shut it." She hissed as she levered herself up, revealing her very pregnant body. He blinked and Mycroft lifted his hands from behind her. Sherlock rolled his eyes. She had come here on her own.

"Who are you, madam?" the judge asked.

"The woman in question, I am Dr. Marion Holmes." She said wobbling a little. John was there and held her.

"What are you doing?" He asked her.

"Saving him." She said softly.

"Jesus. You are still weak…" John said propping her up as she stood weakly, leaning against him.

She looked at the judge. "I was drugged. My husband tried to keep me from cutting myself and harming our baby. I could not stop myself. When he had no other choice he rendered me unconscious."

"The marks on your body. There are many over time."

"I bruise easily. I am a bit of a klutz." She smiled a little.

"But the cuts…" The judge pressed.

"Are not your concern." She said. "However, he did not do it." She said nodding at her husband.

The judge hissed. "Well with this testimony we have no choice to let you go, Mr. Holmes."

Mari smiled a little and then looked at John. "I…think I need to go back to…" She slumped against him.

He caught her to him. "Marion. Christ!" He hissed and pressed her into the chair. He pressed his fingers to her neck. "We need to get her back to hospital." John said looking at Mycroft.

Mycroft nodded and walked out to where an ambulance was waiting.

"A woman fainted?" A medic asked.

"Yes." Mycroft said. "She is there."

They laid her on the gurney and then drove to the hospital. Sherlock appeared. "Well now that is over, we can go see to arresting the priest."

"What?" Lestrade said. "Your wife is very ill and you are still working the case?"

"She will be well taken care of and there is very little I can do." Sherlock said. "Come on. The priest is the only one with connections to all the boys."

Lestrade looked at him and shook his head. "You are serious. Your wife could die and you want to solve this cold case."

Mycroft hissed. "He has a point brother mine. You should see to your wife."

Sherlock looked at him. "She is unconscious and is still suffering from the drug. I would be in the way. Allow the doctors to do their work and I will do mine."

Lestrade shook his head. "All right then. Have it your way."

ZzZ

Marion woke. She was in a hospital bed. She looked about. John was napping in a chair by the window. Mycroft was asleep nearby. She blinked and her eyes focused on Sherlock above her. He smiled a little.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. He was holding her hand. She sighed and pressed a hand to her head. "How long have I been here?"

"Nearly three days. I was starting to worry." He smiled leaning against the bars. He touched her hair. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She said. "I feel frankly uneasy." She sighed. "How is the case going?"

"You need to eat soon." He smiled a little. "We caught the murderer. It was the priest. He would befriend the choir boys. Seems a bit scandalous even for this time period. Will be interesting to see how Rome take it."

"Indeed." She looked at her hands. "And you solved my case too."

"You were easy. Drugged. It was a message."

"A message?"

"Yes. Telling me no one I care for is safe." He sighed. "Rather boring actually."

"They could have shot me. Maybe that would have made an impression."

He blinked. "That would have definitely got me to prison." He said. "They already tried to get me on a domestic gone wrong."

"Which was not the case." She looked at him. "How in the hell did you ever stand being on drugs?"

"I never used Amphetamines." He said. "Heroin and Cocaine. Sure when I was bored at college."

"If you ever start that again…"

"Relax, I have other things to occupy me now." He smirked. "Domestic Sherlock Holmes. God Help me." He then shook his head. "Why did you make them bring you to court?"

"I wasn't about to let you go to jail for something you didn't do." She said.

"But you were still ill and fighting the effects."

"Is that concern, Mr. Holmes?"

"Don't let on." He said looking over at the two sleeping.

She smiled a little. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He touched her cheek. She winced a little. "I am sorry I did that." He said.

"You did what you needed to."

"But it looks bad."

"Doesn't hurt as much as it looks like it should, I am sure."

"I brought this hell on you. I'm sorry."

"Sherlock Holmes. Do not start apologizing for who and what you are."

"But you could have died. Moriarty wants me to suffer. If he can get to you he can…"

"Hush." She said lifting a hand to his face. "I am safe as long as you are free and crime solving."

He made a face. "Perhaps."

"Ha, you do care."

"Of course I care Marion. I have always…" She pressed a finger to his lips.

"Take me home." She said.

"Soon, sweetheart." He said. "We need to make sure you are safe to travel."

She nodded and sighed. She looked down at his hand pressed to her belly. She looked up at him and he smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair.

There was stirring to the side of them. John sat up. "Oh look who's awake."

Marion smiled as her husband straightened. "Hello John."

"Ah, good to see you awake sister dear." Mycroft said behind him. "We were concerned."

"Love you too, Myc."

"Myc?" He blinked.

"That is what your mother calls you."

"Just how much time have you been spending with Mummy?" Mycroft asked arching an eyebrow.

"Enough to know you two rather well. Tell why you never have mentioned your brother before…"

"Seriously? You are doing this now?" Sherlock said. "You are in hospital and you are now asking us about our brother?"

"Yep." She said. "I just had a near death experience and perhaps it is the drugs talking, but I am actually quite curious why you never mentioned him and why your mother has tears from it."

"Brother?" John said. "What brother?"

"Indeed." Marion said as both Holmes boys suddenly became very quite. She took a deep breath. "Is someone going to go see about seeing to my release or are we going to continue this?"

"On it!" Mycroft said.

"I need to smoke." Sherlock hissed.

"No!" Marion hissed.

Both of them froze and turned to look at her. "Sherlock see to my release. Mycroft. Start talking." She said sitting up. "Or must I have tea again to find out what I want to know."

Mycroft lifted his hands. "All right. All right." He walked back to her. "What do you want to know, dear sister?"

"Everything." She pressed her bed button up and looked at him "Start talking." She said lowly.


	13. Past Reckoning

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 13 – Past Reckoning

April 1 2011

Marion Holmes had started he maternity leave early at the insistence of her husband, brother-in-law, parents-in-law, and John Watson. Lestrade had even come to visit her while she was on bed rest at home. She was under John's care much of the time and he took it as a sign that she was not very well when she did not even fight being confined to the flat for nearly two weeks.

Sherlock and he took cases and even helped Lestrade with a couple in the time, but Marion recovered, her body needing care after her nearly fatal overdose of amphetamines. The baby seemed to be all right like her mother, but the doctors were worried about her.

Mari was finally able to go out of the flat and enjoy some sunshine. She had been having twinges all day, but she passed them off to just being in a position too long. She had errands to run such as some shopping and some banking she needed to do. Her husband had allowed her to leave on the condition she wasn't gone more than two hours and that she deposited the checks he had as payments into the accounts. She also needed to text him to let him know how she was.

She lifted her phone as she paid the taxi. _I am at the bank. All is well. _

_Good Love you. SH_

He had found her of great use keeping his accounting straight. It kept her mind active. She also was able to sit at home and read reports from the museum, again something to try to prevent boredom. Her husband sympathized greatly as she started to become anxious to be out and about again.

She took a taxi to the bank and walked in. Something her husband had made sure he had done early in their marriage was to allow her access to all his accounts. She was far better at organizing the money and knew exactly what was where. She was surprised at first at how much he really had and she was about to deposit about sixty grand into the accounts. He had a trust fund, but that account needed Mycroft's approvals for. She had already written a check to John for his part of it. She had his account number and deposited the money into his.

She smiled as she stood in line. She was tired, this being the longest she had been upright in some time. She lifted her phone.

_Are you busy? _

_Depends. What do you have in mind dear sister? Mycroft_

_I am hungry. Fancy some lunch? I am near your office._

_Are you? Well. There is a lovely little Italian bistro around the corner from the bank. Mycroft_

_How did you know I was at the…oh nevermind. I will be done shortly. See you there in fifteen. _

_I look forward to it. Mycroft _

She smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket as she stepped forward to the teller.

All the accounts were labeled, in her own fashion to keep them straight. She put money in the grocery account, the rent account, the utility account, and emergency fund, and lastly savings. She took all the receipts and put them in her purse and sighed.

She put a hand to her side and hissed a little. She felt like a beached whale and she likely looked like one too. She sighed and moved out of the back doors. She moved to go to the taxi when a great noise was heard. She gasped as she found herself on the earth. She coughed and looked about. She had been moved a few feet, but landed on some bark that cushioned her fall.

Glass was shattered about her and many others. A bus that had been behind the taxi at the stop was now in flames having exploded. She blinked. Her head hurt, her ear was ringing, and she looked about. She pulled herself to her feet and looked about.

The ringing continued and she blinked seeing people around. She needed to get to Mycroft. Tell him about the bomb. She heard sirens in the distance. Whimpering she started to walk away as if in a daze. She left her purse behind on the sidewalk.

The door had clearly kept much of the blast from her, but she could feel the tickle of blood oozing. She had to have some minor cuts from the glass. She moved down the street, totally unresponsive to anyone who was looking at her. Everyone was in slow motion and she could not hear well. Her ear ached and the ringing was annoying.

She reached the bistro and lifted a hand to the door.

The door swung open.

"Marion!" Mycroft stepped to her and took her upper arms in his hands. He shook her a little to gain her attention as she looked about a little.

She blinked and looked up at Mycroft. She could tell he was speaking, but she could not hear him. "Mycroft?"

"Focus, sister!" He barked.

"What?" She asked. "I…I can't hear well…"

"God in heaven, were you there?" He asked looking down the street at the smoke.

"Where?" She asked trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain. "I was at the bank. What is going on?" She said more loudly that she likely would have. He turned her face gently with his hand revealing the line of blood oozing from her ear. He growled something and then looked about.

"There was a bomb. The third in London." He said. "Come on then." He said pulling her to the car waiting. He pulled out his phone and realized he had no signal. He looked at his assistant who climbed in as well. "My satellite phone."

"Of course."

"Marion." Mycroft said.

"Huh?" She asked looking at him.

"Stay with me. You have some minor injuries. We will have them seen to shortly." Mycroft said. He called. "Get me the Prime Minister!" He barked.

ZzZ

Sherlock and John were at a small deli together. They had decided to give Mari her space, but had followed her. Sherlock wanted to make sure she was ready. They had watched her go into the bank. When she came out she had moved to get into the cab, but then the explosion happened.

Sherlock and John looked at each other. Sherlock ran to the area and looked about at the wounded. He looked about. The Taxi driver was dead, glass had cut his carotid artery. Everyone on the bus was dead, incinerated from the blast. John moved and was seeing to people as Sherlock looked about and then saw her purse lying nearby.

"John! John!" He barked as John looked at someone. John looked up and then excused himself and walked to where Sherlock was squatting down looking at the bark. "She was here." He said. "She was knocked down here. Where is she?"

"Isn't that her purse?"

"Yes." Sherlock said lifting it. He looked about. "She stood up, but where did she go?" He looked down. "Blood." He said touching a drop.

"That could be from anyone." John said.

"She was leaning back because her hips are splayed…." Sherlock said looking at the ground seeing the scuff marks from the soft shoes she was wearing. "Mari…" He looked and followed the trail about two blocks before it ended.

John had been seeing to people as a doctor on scene and Sherlock came back. Sherlock blinked. "What the hell is going on?" He asked looking up.

ZzZ

Marion was dozing lightly as Mycroft's car drove through town taking the oddest routes to avoid the traffic issues due to the bombs. She had tried texting Sherlock, but it didn't work. She listened to Mycroft barking orders and calling for security measures.

Finally the car stopped and Mycroft got out and then took her hand. "Come on Marion." He said pulling her after him. She was fully awake and looked about. She was in something resembling a parking garage and she was pulled into an elevator. There were six men, Mycroft's assistant, and her in the lift and her very pregnant form made it difficult for her to move about.

They went down about three floors and the elevator chimed and Mycroft again held her hand, pulling her along. He snapped an ID card on her collar and pressed his to a key card locked door. It opened and he pulled her inside.

She looked around. "Where the bloody hell are we?" she asked.

"The safest and most secret part of London, my dear." Mycroft said.

"I won't tell." She said looking at several monitors.

"I know. You are one used to secrets my dear." Mycroft said.

"Ah Mycroft." A man said coming to them.

"Harry." Mycroft said.

"Who is this?"

"My assistant Marion. She is a linguist, behavoralist and explosions expert." Mycroft said.

Marion froze as she turned to look at him. He shot her a look to remain silent and she did so, looking about. "What happened?"

"Three separate bombs. None on the tube this time, all above ground on buses. A great deal of casualties, but very few deaths." Harry said.

"Terrorism in the full sense of the word." She said softly.

"Quite so Marion." Harry said. "Can I find you a chair?" He asked.

"She needs medical attention. Perforated ear drum and some minor cuts from the glass." Mycroft said.

"She was there?"

"Yes."

"And she isn't a suspect?" Harry asked.

"No. She was getting in a taxi when the bomb hit and she was doing banking. She is not your terrorist."

"The new trend is women who look pregnant as suicide bombers."

Mycroft chuckled. "Oh there is a baby in there and since it is my blood I would like to see them both safe."

"Pardon?" Harry asked.

"Besides being very adept at many things, Marion is my sister-in-law and she is carrying my brother's child."

Harry blinked. "Ah so I suppose you have thoroughly checked her out then."

"Completely." Mycroft said. "I know _everything_ about her."

She blinked looking at him. "Everything?"

"Yes." He said. He bent to her. "And some of your past will be quite useful."

She narrowed her eyes. "I swore I never would go back to that Mycroft." She made a face. "I bought my freedom from that life. Don't make me…not again…"

"Nor have you, but it is your knowledge I need." Mycroft said.

"We have some of the bomb fragments, sir." A man said as he came in with an evidence bag.

Mycroft nodded. "You are up Marion."

She nodded and sat down with them. A nurse came and put tape on her minor wounds and abrasions and then had her tip her head. She superglued her eardrum carefully and then had Marion sit with her head turned.

Marion hissed a little and then looked at the fragments. She knew this work. Damn, Mycroft for knowing it too.

Two more bags came from the other bombs. She narrowed her eyes.

She sat and made a picture of it as she drew what she was seeing in her mind's eye. Mycroft watched her and nodded as she sat back sighing as a pain hit a little harder than before.

Mycroft went to her. "You reconstructed the bomb." He said. "How?"

"My mind palace." She smiled at him.

He sighed and nodded. "This did not take you long."

"I know this bomb." She said. She looked at the intelligence people there. "Like anyone with a signature, a bomb has a signature." She smiled. "Each bomb can tell you the motivations of the bomber. For example. The first London bombs. Designed to kill people and have heavy casualties for as many as possible. This person wanted to create terror and horror. However, this bomber, wants to create terror and confusion." She looked at the TV. "Three bombs and only six dead? One hundred injured…" She looked up. "Obviously not so much a killer as one who is making a warning as a point." She looked at them. "Percussion charge. Made a loud noise, but see it focuses up wards."

"It could be turned to do more damage." Mycroft said.

"Yes. Against a building it could bring down a structure."

"So there will be more." Harry said.

"Likely if not stopped." She said. She blinked and shuddered.

"A name, Mari. I need a name."

"Yetenekli." She said looking at her drawing.

"The gifted?" Mycroft said.

"He is very well known for the bombings in the Gaza strip."

"His name is Turkish."

"Yes, exactly." Marion said. She took a deep breath. "Why do you think they never find him?" She asked looking up at him.

"Great well, then, how do we stop him?"

"You don't." Mari said. "He always goes to the highest bidder." She sighed and rose to her feet.

"Hang on, how do you know about him if he can't be found?" Harry asked.

Mycroft shook his head. "That isn't important."

"Oh, but I think it is." Harry stepped to her and gripped her arm. She gasped as he pressed her backwards into the wall. "How do you know?"

"I…I…"

"How? Do you like bombs too? Did you blow people up?" Harry asked.

"Harry. Let her go. She is helping…" Mycroft said.

"How do you know?" Harry barked.

"She is his sister." Mycroft stepped to him. "Let her go now."

"What?!" Harry asked.

Marion closed her eyes. "Mycroft. How in God's name do you know that?"

Mycroft looked at her. "Do you really think I didn't do my homework on you?"

She took a breath. "No, I suppose I am not surprised." She panted. "How did you find out?"

"You are of Syrian and Turkish extraction. You speak many languages fluently. You weren't just his understudy, you were his banker." Mycroft said.

"So she knows about the Arab terrorists?" Harry asked.

"No." Mycroft said. "She only handled the money and watched him build the bombs." He looked at Mari who had tears in her eyes and shook her head. "She was very young when they were orphaned."

"Mycroft…no…"

"He was the one who blew up his parent's car. They were asking too many questions or was it they were getting too close to Hamas, my dear?" Mycroft said.

"Stop it!" Marion hissed.

"Al Zahra." Mycroft continued looking at her. "The Enlightened is what he called you, but your name is Miriam."

"Hold on you call her Marion." Harry said.

"Yes. Her British name. Marion Holmes."

"So she got close to you to what learn places to bomb?" Harry asked.

"No." Mycroft said. "No, no, no, she left that life. Became an Olympic fencer, already a crack shot she perfected it, learned Krav Maga, belly dancing, many languages, and she has five degrees." He smiled, pride in his eyes. "And all of that in less than twenty-two years."

"Four." She corrected. "I have my defense after my maternity leave is over."

"Four." He said. "Apologies sister."

Harry robbed a hand over his eyes. "So why is he bombing London?"

"Oh he isn't." Mycroft said. "He only makes the bombs and sells them, isn't that right my dear." He leaned on his umbrella.

"He provides a service yes."

"For whom then?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. Isn't that your job as Intelligence people for this country?" She asked.

"We have this note Marion. Can you translate it?"

"We have people who can…" Harry protested.

"She is faster."

She looked at it and then doubled over in pain. She gasped. She reached for the wall, but Harry grabbed her arm.

"Are you all right?"

"No…" She panted. "I think…I think the baby is coming." She said. She looked up at Mycroft. "Find Sherlock."

"That might take some time with…"

She reached up as she staggered to him. She grabbed his shirt front pulling him down to her level. "You find him so he can solve this for you and I gave bring his child into this world or you will be. Do I make myself clear, Myc?" She hissed at him.

He nodded startled by the rage on her face. "Quite." He said. She let go and he stepped back, straightening his tie.

"Good. "She said. "Now…is there a pen and paper…"

"Are you in labor?" He asked leaning close.

"Possibly. The pains are harder and more regular." She said. "Pen. Paper. Husband. NOW!"

Harry smirked a little and then helped her to a seat. "Here Marion."

She nodded and began to translate as she blinked.

Mycroft took a breath. "We need to find a nurse and doctor who can be here."

"You are expecting her to stay here?"

"Are you thinking I am going to allow her to be out on the streets when a bomber is out there?"

"She needs a hospital."

"She needs protection." Mycroft said.

Harry nodded. "I will have men look for your brother."

"And Doctor Watson. He would be of use."

"Do they have clearance to be here?"

"No, but we must make due…" Mycroft said. He looked at Harry. "Technically, neither does she and between her and her husband you may stop more attacks from happening. She knows the network. He knows crimes. Match made in hell."

"Oh piss off, Mycroft." She hissed at him.

"I love you too sister." He said smiling at her.

Harry threw up his hands and left as Mycroft stood back watching Marion.

ZzZ

Sherlock was fighting down his panic as he searched hospitals. His wife was nowhere to be found and without cell service in much of the town of London, he couldn't find her. John was with him as he searched around. The small amount of blood could have been from a small wound, but still he worried. After her nearly fatal over dose of amphetamines, she was at risk. She had nearly a month to go, but the doctors had cautioned him the baby would likely come early.

He took a breath and looked about as he turned to John. "I can't find her…" He said softly.

"Who?" John asked.

"Marion."

"Well we know she isn't dead or we would have found her body…"

"True." Sherlock said. "But she is pregnant and after being drugged…I…"

"We will find her, Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded slightly.

ZzZ

Inside the bunker Marion had finished her translation.

"Thank you, Marion." Mycroft said. "This will be useful."

"I hope so." She said.

She gritted her teeth and clung to the chair arms as two men walked into the room. Mycroft turned and smiled. "Ah. Welcome. Let me get you up to speed, sir."

"Who is this? One of your many underlings, Mycroft?"

"Actually no she is…"

"I'm Marion Holmes, his sister-in-law. A pleasure." She said and then she gasped doubling over. His hand went to her elbow in a gesture of concern. "Forgive me Prime Minister, I am a bit out of sorts." She said.

"Why is that Mrs. Holmes?"

"Doctor." She corrected.

"Sorry, doctor." He said smiling. "You look pale and in pain. Are you in labor?"

She nodded looking up. "And my water just broke. Would one of you be kind…enough to find me a room or something." She gasped holding her middle.

"Good lord!" Prime Minister Cameron said looking at her. "Call a doctor!"

"One will be here soon sir." Mycroft said as Cameron helped Mari to a chair.

"This really isn't necessary sir." She said.

He touched her head. "No, but no one else here has experience with pregnant women let alone one who is in labor. Just breathe, my dear."

Mycroft sighed. "Thank you for this." He said lifting the translation.

"Hold on, where are you going?" The Prime Minister asked as Mari gasped fighting a contraction. "Breathe." He said softly pressing his cool hand to her brow. "I have four children. My wife likes to go into labor early."

"I thought children were supposed to come late." She hissed and whimpered.

"That is if they don't come early. Mycroft?"

"Clearly you have things well in hand and as you say, you have far more experience than I do." He stepped out of the room and found an orderly. "Find my brother and Doctor Watson now!"

"Sir!"


	14. Future Tense

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 14 – Future Tense

Marion panted as she lay on the floor looking up at the sterile walls. She looked about. Beside her was of all people, the Prime Minister of England. Her husband was God knew where and John with him. Her brother-in-law was back from her looking at what she had translated, but watchful.

"Mycroft if you don't get him here soon, I am going to break your hand!" She growled.

"Soon, sister." He said lifting a hand. He then looked to the Prime Minister. "Are they always so hostile?"

"You try being in labor to bring a melon from your body and see how you do." The minister smiled. "You are doing fine Marion. We have our best people going to the flat to get him."

ZzZ

Sherlock walked into his flat and walked upstairs he sighed. "Well she isn't here." He said looking about. He went to his bedroom and then looked at the flat. "Where did she go?"

"Try calling Mycroft."

"I can't. The whole system is down." He said.

There was a knock at the door. John went to the flat door and looked down as two men in suits came in. "Dr. Watson?"

"Yes. Is Mr. Holmes with you?"

"Yes, of course he is. What do you want?"

"We have been summoned to fetch you both."

"Oh? By whom?" Sherlock asked joining John.

"Mycroft Holmes and Marion Holmes."

"Marion?" Sherlock said. "Where is she?" He asked stepping forward. "Is she all right?"

"Safe. We will take you to her."

He nodded. "All right." He walked out with the men and climbed into the car with John right behind him. He looked at the pair of intelligence men. "Where are we going?"

They remained silent.

ZzZ

It took less than an hour for them to arrive. John and Sherlock were put onto a lift and sent down a few floors. There several men stood and patted the two of them down. Sherlock rolled his eyes and tolerated it.

"They are clear." The man said into a microphone on his wrist.

"Let them in." Mycroft said on the line.

Sherlock and John walked into a large room with many video feeds, computers, several tables, and many people. Mycroft came forward. "Ah there you are little brother. Your wife has been calling for you."

"Calling for me?" Sherlock asked.

A scream made everyone freeze what they were doing. John gasped. "Where is she?"

Mycroft led the way to the room where Marion was on the floor, surrounded by blankets, pillows, and a woman trying to feed her ice chips. Her hair was sodden from sweating. Sherlock paused at the door as John ran in and knelt down by the woman who was on her side sobbing.

"Marion." He said softly. He reached for some gloves as he pressed his hand to her head. "How long has she been like this?"

"About an hour." Mycroft said. "A lot of fuss." He said making a face.

Marion looked up. "John." She whispered. "Where is…"

"He is there." John said nodding to Sherlock. "Can I check you, Marion?"

She nodded as Sherlock went to her. He gently looked her over. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Now that you are here."

"We need Sherlock to focus." Mycroft said.

John had shifted and lifted the sheet she had over her. He leaned forward checking her over. He smiled and patted her knee as Sherlock looked down at him.

"Well?"

"She is about seven inches dilated and nearly fully afaced." John said. "We will be having a baby soon." He smiled.

Sherlock looked at his wife. He took her hand and sighed. "We need to find the bombers my love. I will come back."

She took his hand. Clenching it hard. "Solve me a case, Sherlock Holmes." She whispered looking at him.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her brow. "I will." He looked at Mycroft and then rose to his feet.

She looked at him leaving and she swallowed as John moved to her, wiping her brow a little. Sherlock took a breath as he looked at his brother. "All right. What do we have?"

"We know the bomb maker. We know what is going on. We know how to access the records. We just need you to put it all together."

Sherlock nodded and walked into the main room leaving Marion as she labored.

John sighed and looked at the woman. "Do you have any cool water?"

"Sure."

"Good. We are going to need it." He said sighing. "She has a ways to go."

"Was that her husband who just left?"

"Yes." John said. "He does that a lot."

"But this is his baby."

"Yes."

Marion whimpered as another contraction hit. John then looked at her. "Easy, Marion. Don't push yet." He said softly.

ZzZ

Sherlock sat in the room looking at the drawing before him, the bomb fragments, and the information from the translated letter. He sat in silence reflecting on all the facts before him. The Gifted. The Enlightened. Bombs. His mind reviewed all the bombing history in London.

"What is he doing?" The Prime Minister asked softly.

"His mind palace." Mycroft said watching as he spoke softly. "He is putting together all the pieces of the puzzle."

ZzZ

Marion had been in labor nearly six hours when Sherlock looked up as the TV broadcast something. He rose and went out to look at it. A fourth bomb had gone off, but it had done far more damage. He looked for the clues and sent Mycroft's people out in a search of London while he told Mycroft he needed to leave.

Mycroft would not let him and the silence was broken by a scream of agony. Marion was still in labor and Sherlock needed to solve this case before he could go to her.

ZzZ

Marion looked at John who was between her knees. "You are doing well, sweetheart."

"It hurts. Make it stop. Tell Sherlock to make it stop."

"I can't Mari. You are doing really well."

"It hurts so much."

"Well remember you are in a bunker without drugs to help you." John said gently.

She reached down and he took her hand. "Thank you John."

"For what?"

"For being here. For always being here." She said.

He smiled. "My pleasure, Mari."

ZzZ

Sherlock looked at all the information and then looked up. "It's Downing Street." He said.

"What?" Mycroft said.

"10 Downing Street. It is the target."

"No one is there."

"But to blow it up would make an impression."

"True." Mycroft nodded.

He nodded to his orderlies to go check it.

ZzZ

Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Prime Minister stood together watching through a camera on one of the agent's head as they went into Downing Street. Inside they found someone, in his early thirties setting a bomb. Incomplete he was arrested and brought out.

Mycroft blinked. "The Gifted. Well I may just gift wrap him for Israel."

"How do you know him?" Sherlock asked.

"He is very well known." Mycroft said.

"Sir, we found some papers." The leader of the team said to the camera.

The man spoke in Turkish and then coughed. Mycroft gasped. "Poison." He hissed. The man fell dead to the earth. "Such a pity. We could have gained much from the terror network from him."

"He was dying anyway." Sherlock said.

"Oh?"

"Look at his skin." Sherlock said. "Common signs from radiation exposure."

"What does that mean? There is a dirty bomb somewhere?" Mycroft hissed.

"Perhaps. Or not. He worked with dangerous compounds. That could also be the problem."

"Leeching. Yes. So not so much radiation as exposure."

"Yes. It would seem. What did he say?" Sherlock asked. "A pity my wife wasn't here to translate."

Mycroft lifted his head a little and then sighed. "Play it back. Copy the man talking." He ordered a subordinate."

"All is safe now?" Sherlock asked.

"He was contracted to bomb Downing Street, but it appears he wanted to give us a warning. No one would be hurt…except himself." Mycroft said. "Kardishim. Sister…" He blinked and then looked behind him. "She isn't screaming anymore."

"What?"

"She isn't screaming anymore." Mycroft said. "Why isn't she screaming if she is in labor?"

Sherlock gasped and ran to the room. He opened the door. No one was inside, but there were bloody towels and the room smelled of sweat and blood. He gasped. "Where is she Mycroft?"

"I have no idea." His brother said. He looked about and then found an orderly. "Where did they take the woman who was in here?"

"Oh, the Prime Minister gave the all clear and the doctor called for an ambulance." She said.

Sherlock turned and ran toward the lift. He pushed the buttons and started to lift to the surface. Once the door opened he rushed out to the street. It was raining and the paramedics were loading something into the ambulance.

The form was small and under a jacket as they lifted and put the gurney in. John jumped up into the ambulance as Sherlock arrived. "I need to go to!" He said.

The paramedic blinked and John looked out. "Yeah, let him in."

Sherlock jumped in. "What happened? Is Mari okay?" He asked fighting down his panic.

"Yes of course she is." John said pulling his jacket back to reveal Marion with an oxygen mask on her face looking up at them. She looked pale, small, and exhausted.

"Sherlock." She whispered, voice muffled by the mask.

He leaned closer. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She smiled and shifted. "There is someone I want you to meet." She said.

"Someone?" He asked looking at her.

She pushed back the coat to reveal she was holding a bundle. She shifted the flap to reveal a tiny baby with dark curly hair looking up at him with wide open eyed. Sherlock's eyes opened wide. "She…she…she is here." He whispered.

"Yes." She smiled lifting a hand to his face as he looked down at his child.

"She is small, Sherlock, but healthy." John said. "We need to get her to the neonatal unit though. Make sure she is well, but she is breathing on her own. Good start for being two weeks premature."

Sherlock was startled. He had helped create this little being. He lifted a finger to look at her. He touched her cheek softly. "She is so small."

"I guess around five pounds. She isn't huge, but she isn't underweight really either." John said as the ambulance began to love.

"John…Why are my legs shaking?" Marion asked. She looked down and looked up in alarm.

"Oh." John looked at the paramedic. "Did you get that IV in?"

"No, her veins are difficult." The paramedic said.

"Sherlock take your daughter a moment." John said.

"What?" Sherlock said.

"Take her."

"I can't she is so…" John rolled his eyes and lifted her and planted her in Sherlock's arms so he could care for the mother.

"I…ummm." Sherlock sat down and looked at the tiny being he held. He looked in love and terrified at the same time.

"Mari, I'm sorry…" John said lifting her free arm. He looked in the boxes and found a butterfly IV. He sighed and then drove it into her vein. He got it on the first try and Mari gasped in pain. "Sorry…"

She nodded and then looked at her husband who was holding their baby. Sherlock was enthralled watching her as the baby moved a little. "Hello." He said softly to her.

John quickly did an IV push of calcium to calm the shaking. In a matter of moments, Mari was still and she sighed. They arrived at the hospital and Mari was unloaded. Sherlock hopped down gently carrying his daughter, holding her as though she were glass.

John walked in and began to speak to the doctors. A nurse came and smiled. "Can I take her?"

"Sure." Sherlock said, glad to not be holding his precious burden anymore. He was afraid he would hurt her.

Mother and child were taken to the women's area. Mari needed to be there over night to be observed. The baby would need a couple days at least. She had jaundice a little and it was discovered she couldn't suck when Mari was settled. She was given a feeding tube and put under ultraviolet light.

Mari and Sherlock got arm bands matching them to the foot band on the tiny foot of the baby. Sherlock smiled as his wife slept. He named his daughter. Elizabeth Genevie Noor Holmes in the grand tradition of naming family members.

With Mari being well looked after, he went to the NICU where his daughter was. The nurses took him to where she was under the lights, sunbathing in her tiny nappie. She had goggles on and a small tube down her nose to feed her with.

He smiled and took a picture and sent it to his parents and Mycroft with the caption. _It's a girl. Welcome Miss Lizzy Holmes. _He then put on a gown as instructed and touched the tiny hand. The tiny fingers curled around his finger and he smiled. "Hello, Lizzy." He said softly.

ZzZ

Sherlock's parents came down from the country. They gowned up with Sherlock and met their first born grand baby who was resting in an incubator that kept her warm. Though small, she was larger than many of the babies in the NICU.

"Do you want to hold her?" A Scottish nurse asked.

"Can we?" Elizabeth Holmes asked.

"Of course. It is good for them. Sit right there." The nurse said nodding to a rocking chair. Elizabeth dropped into it and the nurse lifted the tiny girl up. She still had her feeding tube, but she was healthy otherwise and looked normal other than being small.

The grandmother and grandfather made quite a production of holding and snuggling the baby and Sherlock watched. He had often just watched her sleep. He read email and such things as he had his hand on her as she slept as though he worried if he left her, she would just evaporate.

After two days she was brought in and had her first successful breast feeding while Sherlock's parents dragged him out for some food at a restaurant nearby. Once the little thing was able to suck down her first meal at her mother's breast, the doctors agreed she could go home that evening.

She would need to have her feeding tube much of the time because breast feeding exhausted her, but clearly it was good for her to do that.

Sherlock returned to his daughter in her carrier and his wife ready to go home. John was with her. Sherlock, Mari, and the baby went with Sherlock's parents and John took a cab home. Once there, Sherlock helped his wife up the stairs. She still moved with some hesitation. Elizabeth and George brought up the baby carrier.

Sherlock then shooed his parents out promising that they would have brunch with them in the morning. John settled into his chair as Mari occupied Sherlock's chair. She held Lizzy in her arms. She then stifled a yawn as she looked up at her husband.

Sherlock had been pacing a little waiting for his turn to hold her again and when Mari retired early to bed, Sherlock claimed his tiny baby. She looked very much like him, her high cheek bones, dark curly hair, but her dark eyes, and mouth were her mother.

He held her as he sat down looking at her. She was perfect. Small, but perfect. She looked up at him and gurgled a little and then had a big yawn. Sherlock made a face at her because everything she did was adorable.

John laughed.

"What?" Sherlock asked. "Hello, little one." He said as his daughter looked at him.

"Just you. I never would have thought you as a father and you are already up for father of the year." John said.

"Can you blame me? She is perfect."

"In every way, yes."

"Good genes." Sherlock said. "She is going to be brilliant."

The baby then made a face and then began to whimper. John watched in amusement as the tiny mouth formed into an O and began to sob, large tears in her eyes and Sherlock nearly coming undone by the tears.

"John what do I do…she is upset…I…" Sherlock asked in near panic.

"Undone by a five pound baby. Took on a CIA agent with a gun, but a baby crying is too much." John smirked.

"What is wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"She's hungry." John said. "Do you want me to take her?"

"What? Oh!" Sherlock said. He got up and moved about finding the bottle of breast milk. He measured the correct amount for the syringe and then held the syringe a moment. He cooed a little as his baby's muffled cries alarmed him. "Just a moment, sweetheart, I need to warm it a bit. That is what they told me." He said. He then moved back to his chair and pressed the syringe, slowly, filling her tiny stomach with the milk she wanted.

After a few moments she calmed and settled against him. He took a deep breath.

John was still smirking at him as Sherlock looked up at him. "Disaster averted?"

"You know that really isn't funny." Sherlock said.

"Oh yes it is. Seeing you so undone by something that weighs as much as your violin, yeah it is." John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He shifted and pressed the baby into her bassinette that he had out in the room. He looked down at her. She squirmed a little and did not seem to want to settle down. He stood up and lifted his violin.

He began to play and Lizzy looked up. She let out a large sigh and then was still. Sleeping. Sherlock smiled a little as John shifted, listening as well. She really was Sherlock's daughter if all it took for her to go to sleep was her father playing his violin. It had calmed her in utereo. Why not now?

ZzZ

Mari walked into the room. Before her was glass. Solid glass. The room was cool, bare, and she felt ill at ease.

The door opened and a man was brought in and place on the chair behind the glass.

Mari smiled as the men left the room. Slowly the man's head lifted to look at her. He cocked his head at her. "Mari-on." He said slowly.

"Hello Sherrinford. How are you today?" She smiled. "I have news for you."

"You have had the baby. What is her name?" The voice asked, eerily like her husband's own baritone.

"Lizzy. Sherlock named her Lizzy."

"Sherl always did like that name." He smirked. "A real momma's boy he is as well as the family idiot."

"Yes." Mari said. "He has solved many crimes."

"Indeed. And Mycy is still in boring office work I suppose."

"Yes. He is Mycroft. One never really knows what he is up to." She looked at him. "Are you well?" she asked.

"I am better now that I have visitors." He said standing and moving about the small cell behind the glass. "It gets so boring in here."

"I can imagine." She said.

"I have rather become fond of these dates."

"Well someone needs to visit." She said. "It isn't right no one else does."

"Oh my mother does, for holidays, but how ironic is it that it is you who takes an interest in me."

"Do you need anything Sherrin?"

"No." He stepped to the glass, his eyes wild. "I look forward to seeing you again. Tell Sherl and Mycy I miss them."

"You know they never talk about you."

"Small wonder." He said. "They both put me here."

"For your own good."

"And everyone else." He said. "Good day dear sister. Give my love to Lizzy." He turned and walked to the door and knocked. "A pleasure as always Doctor Holmes."

"You as well, Sherrinford Holmes." Mari said as she rose to her feet and went to her own door to be let out.

ZzZ

"We have a video for you to look at." Mycroft said as he looked at his sister-in-law as she sat in his office.

"Oh?"

"It is rather graphic. We are hoping you can translate it for us."

"Another threat?"

"Confirming the end of one."

She nodded and he pulled it up on his screen. He turned it to her. The man spoke Turkish and then fell backwards. Mari gasped, a hand going to her mouth.

"Mari?"

"No. It is done."

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'This is the end. It is over. Tell my sister I love her, and I do this for her.'" She said tears running down her face. "Oh, Mustafa." She whispered.

"That was his name then? His real name?" Mycroft said.

"Yes." She said. She rose to her feet. "Is there anything else?"

"He is buried. I will tell you where."

"Thank you, brother."

Mycroft rose to his feet. "I am sorry, Mari."

She turned at the door. "You have never lost anyone in your family. How can you possibly know what it is like?"

"I have done far worse." Mycroft said. "And you know it."

She took a breath. "But he lives…"

"Does he?"

"Yes." She narrowed her eyes. "You just choice to forget him, as I did mine." She said. "Buried pasts come back to haunt you, Mycroft." She said. "I should know."

"You know what he is like and you know why I can't face that. Sherlock is enough to handle."

"Sherlock will never kill your parents, despite him finding them tedious." She looked down. "He won't kill himself to make sure your secrets die with you."

Mycroft moved and lifted a finger under her chin. "I didn't tell him." He said softly. "He should know at least in part. He knows there are things in your past unanswered."

She nodded. "I will tell him soon enough. Do I have your silence?"

"Your file has been deeply filed and is under inactive, associates, none, known location, unknown." He looked at her. "Will that do?"

"Thank you."

Mycroft nodded. "I do care." He said. "It is hard for me. I do not care for people, but I do care about your welfare, Lizzy's, and Sherlock's."

"And Sherrinford." She said. "Else you would have just killed him and made it look like an accident."

"Perhaps that would have been kinder." He said.

"Perhaps." She said. "You should lay that ghost with him and see him."

"No. In time. But not now."

She nodded. "All right." She said. She smiled. "Lunch soon?"

He walked to the window. "Yes of course. I need to find some new things for my new niece. I need to keep up on my 'best uncle in the world' title."

She chuckled. "Good day, brother mine."

"Good day, sister."


	15. Home is Where the Heart is

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 15 – Home is Where the Heart is

Marion took a breath as she swam. Her hair, she had cut it back to her shoulders and it was tucked under her swim cap as she swam laps. It had been five months since the birth of little Lizzy and she was rather quickly gaining her old body back with yoga, exercise, good food, and swimming were all working quite well.

She popped up and looked at the time. She smiled. She still had fifteen more minutes before Sherlock would need her at least. She pulled her goggles back and swam more.

ZzZ

Sherlock looked down at the baby blanket as his daughter rocked while on her belly. Her head was up looking about. Her thick dark hair was all over. He smiled. She had rolled over onto her front from being set down on her back. She was trying to figure out her muscles to crawl. She was literally twice her size that she had been born at and was growing rapidly. He never was bored watching her learn about the world as she lay there watching him type on his computer. Her tiny hand was sucking on her fist. She rolled back onto her back and kicked her legs looking up at her father and grinning.

Sherlock laughed. "What are you about?" He asked as she wiggled her whole body. She was babbling and reaching up at him. He smiled more and dropped out of his chair. He moved over her and ducked his head down blowing a raspberry onto her tummy. She squealed and grabbed his hair as she laughed in pleasure.

He reached up and released her hands and then sat on his knees lifting her up into his arms. He made a face at her and she giggled again at him reaching for his face. He pressed his lips to her hand and blew again making for another round of giggles.

"You know I never thought you would be a good father." Mrs. Hudson said coming in bring in some tea for Sherlock.

"Why?" He asked not looking up from his daughter as he brought her to his chest.

"Because you are you." Mrs. Hudson said simply. "It is fun to watch you with her though."

"She is so smart. She learned to roll over two weeks early." Sherlock said. "She will rival Mycroft."

Mrs. Hudson made a face. "Hopefully she will be a little more social."

"I hope not. Maybe If I can keep her from dating for thirty years…"

Lizzy gurgled and then sucked on her hand again. Sherlock sighed. "Where has your mother gotten to? You are starting to get hungry."

"Doesn't Mari have some bottles for you?"

"She pumps for emergencies, but Lizzy much prefers the real thing. Can't say I blame her."

"Sherlock…" Mrs. Hudson said looking at him playfully.

Sherlock smiled. "Do you want to see Nana Hudson?" He asked lifting his daughter up. "You do…" He shifted and handed the little girl over to Mrs. Hudson who was seated in John's chair to her delight.

Mrs. Hudson laughed and held the little thing. She was quite the useful baby sitter when Mari, Sherlock, and John had to be out of the house. Sherlock was rather particular who watched his daughter, barely allowing his parents to watch her even though they were fully capable. His intimates were the only ones he really allowed without protest and that was when he decided to put her down.

Sherlock sipped his tea as he folded one long leg over the other. His daughter was a bean pole. She had grown both in weight, but also in length. He guessed she would be tall for her age all her life. He watched Mrs. Hudson smothering the little thing with kisses and reflected how it had been. He had never expected to be a father to create a perfect little person within the womb of his wife, whom he loved greatly, and have his child come into this world. Now he couldn't think of anything he would rather be.

He sipped his tea and heard a ring. "Client." He said. "Go run along, Mrs. Hudson."

"Should I take Lizzy?"

"No. There are two people in the stairs. Light footfalls of the second. My wife is home." He said. "John!" He called reaching to take Lizzy.

Mari appeared first as John came down the stairs into the room. She smiled as the baby began to fuss a little and reached for her. Mrs. Hudson smiled and passed her to her mother. Sherlock looked at his wife. She was beautiful with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her clothing fit well and showed off her rather beautiful form. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he led the way to the bedroom, taking her bag from her.

"Oh John, can you see to our guest a moment? I need to have Lizzy settled."

John nodded turning to the woman who was standing cautiously at the door. "Hi. Come in. He won't be a minute. Baby is hungry." He smiled dropping into his chair.

Sherlock closed the door as his wife moved to the bed and sat down. She pulled off her top and opened her nursing bra cupping the little one to her. She saw no reason to cover herself with just Sherlock there. He had set down her bag and then dropped to sit beside her watching his daughter nurse. He cupped her small head with his long fingered hand and smiled at his wife.

It was a beautiful thing to watch his daughter take her nourishment from his wife's breast. He always found it captivating and watched quietly. He smiled as he smelled his wife's perfume as well as the smell of honey of his daughters. He hadn't noticed that his wife had bathed her this morning. Her baby scent always was calming to him. He had read that was actually scientific, but he didn't care. She was his baby and he loved her with all his heart. He had no idea he would be so infatuated when his wife had come to him announcing her pregnancy to him. Now more a year later and coming up on his first anniversary, he could not be happier though he still had a hard time expressing it at times.

"I don't know how many times I have said it, but I am going to again." He looked at her, his green eyes bright. "Thank you." He whispered and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She turned her head and he pressed a kiss to her mouth softly. "Thank you for being my wife. Thank you for Lizzy. Thank you for…" She pressed a finger to his lips and smiled as she kissed him again. He chuckled and deepened the kiss.

"I do love you, Sherlock Holmes."

"As I you." He smiled and looked down at the baby as she nursed oblivious to her parents watching her. "She is rolling around a lot today."

She smiled at him. "You are documenting everything aren't you."

"Of course." He said.

"You are so cute as a father."

"Cute?" He looked at her. "Cute?"

"Seriously. You aren't even this adorable with me, but turn you loose with a baby girl and all bets are off."

He chuckled. "I have a client." He said rising.

"It isn't really of interest to you or you would have been out there already."

He chuckled again. How well his wife knew him. "Woman is convinced her husband is cheating on him and he is with their son's teacher." He said. "Hardly worth my time."

She chuckled. "Very few things are." She said.

"Most of those are in this room." He smiled and walked out of the door leaving the pair of them in peace.

She heard him speaking in the main room and smiled as he dismissed the woman for wasting his time. Fatherhood suited him. He was not as bored since he now had a baby to watch learning about the world, but he still helped solve cases. Lestrade called him at least once a week to help him and thus the DI had become part of the family too, acting as a third uncle of sorts to the baby since she already had Mycroft who had made it his mission to spoil her, and John, who was faithful there and watchful as though she were his own.

Marion knew her baby was finished and then brought her up to her shoulder as she opened the door. She had a rag as the baby lifted her head to look around. She had pulled on a shirt and walked out rubbing and patting Lizzy's back.

Sherlock looked up from where he was seated and smiled. "Give her here. I am sure you want a shower."

She nodded. "Yes. I reek of chlorine." She smiled and gently passed the infant to her father. Sherlock took the rag and lifted her to his shoulder as Mari turned and walked to the bathroom. At first she had been a little worried about leaving her with Sherlock for fear he would become distracted and forget her, but that changed within a day of her watching him with the baby.

Sherlock turned to John. "How is the dating going?" He asked.

"I have a date tonight."

"New girl?" Sherlock asked rising to his feet and patting his baby's back as he walked about the room.

"Yes." John said. He also found Sherlock all domesticated with his baby oddly fascinating and completely out of character for the self-called high functioning sociopath.

"She suits you better than the last one?"

"Oh?"

"Yes." Sherlock said smiling. Lizzy let out a burp that surprised the two men and Sherlock chuckled. "Well now, that would impress some sailors I know, sweetheart. Are you ready for your nap?" He asked looking at her as she settled against his neck. He looked at John. "Excuse me." He said walking toward the bedroom.

He quickly laid her on floor and knelt. He held her down as he changed her nappie, something he had gotten quite skillful at and something he never would have done before he had his own baby. She was only wet and it made for an easy change. He then laid her in her crib and laid a hand on her. She yawned and shifted a little before settling and closing her eyes.

He walked from the room and walked to the common room. He paused hearing his wife. She was taking a bath and he smiled. If John had not been there, he may have joined her. He then set about looking at some cases in his inbox.

Mari left the bathroom wrapped in a towel and dressed. She smiled seeing her baby softly snoring as she took her afternoon nap. Sherlock was always so good about getting her to go down. She smiled and wondered how her teething would go. At least her husband did not require as much sleep as she did.

She walked into the common room, still drying her hair. Sherlock had remarked he wasn't sure how he felt about her removing about half her hair, but it was lighter for her and she worried soon the baby would be pulling on it. He had agreed then and she still had long hair to past her shoulder, shaped and styled. She looked different and she smiled as Sherlock lifted and arm.

She sat down on the chair arm, her legs on his as he wrapped an arm about her, while reading the emails with his left hand. She was always amazed how long he looked. He was nearing forty and yet could pull off being mid-twenties something quite well. She was looking at her own phone and then she playfully wrote something as she did her own work.

_Hi. Do you think John would be affronted if you just had me right here? _

That got his attention enough to look up at her startled. She smiled playfully at him. "Oh come on, I am the only one who knows the real you." She said.

He lifted a finger to her nose and tapped it playfully. "Don't you go letting on." He said. He smiled at her. "Behave, Doctor Holmes."

ZzZ

A woman was beside herself with a screaming infant she was trying to feet. Her hands were shaking so much as she tried to talk to the Inspector. Her son, a young deaf boy was missing. The baby in her arms shrieked and fought unsettled by her mother also worrying.

Lestrade tried to talk over the screaming, but it was Sherlock who stepped forward. He sighed and took the baby and gently cooed to her as he poured the formula into the water in the bottle and shook it.

"Does he go often?" He asked as he shook the bottle looking at the baby. He gently pushed her back on her arm and the baby latched onto the bottle almost desperately. Lestrade blinked watching as Sherlock, who normally was annoyed by crying and hysterics took charge. Mari was right, the man was incredible with children and soon the baby had stopped crying as she sucked from her bottle.

"No." The mother said watching too. "He didn't have many friends. We had to fire the maid because she used the wrong shampoo. It burned his eyes." She said watching as Sherlock paced about the room with her baby. "How did you know how to do that?"

"I have my own little girl. She is five months." He smiled a little. "Can I see the boy's room?"

She sighed. "Yes this way…"

Sherlock looked about the room and nodded before handing the nearly asleep baby back to her mother. "We will get him back, Mrs. Harrow." He said.

Lestrade looked at Sherlock as he walked outside. "Well I never expected that from you…"

"Fatherhood changes you, Lestrade, you should know." He smiled a little. "The person who took him is close. Remembered his favorite stuffed animal to bring with him to keep him calm." He looked at Lestrade. "We need to find that maid."

Lestrade nodded. "Yeah, Okay."

ZzZ

Sherlock had left that evening to go help Lestrade. There had been a series of cases that had baffled the police, but Sherlock was starting to wonder if there was a broader picture to them as notes were being sent to the police taunting him.

Moriarty.

He helped find the latest missing – a young deaf child who had thought to have been lost, but was really taken by a jealous maid. He was out in the cold and had nearly died from exposure. Sherlock had learned some basic signs from his wife who was learning because she wanted to teach the baby sign language. At first, Sherlock had thought it was ridiculous, but in this case he saw the utility as he was able to tell the boy he was safe and asked if he was hungry.

The boy was hungry and had hugged Sherlock, refusing to let go until he was returned to his parents. He asked Sherlock's name. Sherlock had hesitantly signed his name out to the delight of the boy and his mother. The mother had kissed his cheek and thanked him.

Lestrade had just shook his head and followed Sherlock outside. The man was still just as good at solving crimes, but he seemed to actually care or perhaps as a father now, it was children he cared for. The cynic in him told him that it was because Sherlock was quite juvenile himself.

The consulting criminal was like a spider on a great web and he could make each thread dance.

ZzZ

Sherlock returned home and found Mari sleeping in bed and little Lizzy was awake moving in her crib. Sherlock could hear her making her little babble noises. Clearly not upset, but she would likely be hungry soon. He took a bottle and warmed it a little in the microwave. Testing the temperature he walked back to his bedroom. He smiled a little and reached in plucking her up. He held her to him as he walked out into the main room and put her in her swing with a bottle.

She looked at him, her dark eyes bright as she sucked on her bottle, her little hands holding it. He smiled and lifted his violin and began to play. It was a soft song, a lullaby he had been writing for her. Lizzy listened to her father playing and soon slept soundly.

Mari came into the room. She was wearing his dressing gown over her sleep pants and camisole. She is rumpled from sleep, but smiled at her husband who purses his lips nodding to the swing. Little Lizzy is sound asleep.

Mari moved the bottle and smiled at her husband as she folded into the chair. Sherlock ended the song and smiled. "She loves when you play." She said. "Always calms her."

"You as well."

"Yes." She smiled at him.

"Tell me, Marion, why have you been going to Belmarsh?" He asked cocking his head.

As per normal his lack of preamble shot through her guard. She looked up at him. "Why not?" She asked. "You never go."

"I have a reason not to."

"He isn't really all that bad."

"Is he?" Sherlock stepped forward. "He is insane, Mari."

"I have heard people say the same about you."

"Ah, but you have not killed people."

"I have been accused of that occasionally."

"Donovan could not find her ass from third base."

He smiled and looked at her. "I need to find Moriarty. Find him. Disable him…"

"Sherrin might be able to help you."

"I would never go to him for help."

"Why?"

"He would not help me or Mycroft." Sherlock said. "He hates us for what we did."

"No. He knew someone needed to stop him. He left bread crumbs only you two would find."

Sherlock turned to her. "How would you know of it?"

"I need something to pass the time." She smiled a little. "He told me. Most serial killers want to be caught."

"They get off on escaping."

"But it gets old." She looked at him. "Neither you nor Mycroft have really come to terms with the fact the most dangerous man in the country is your own brother."

"Second." Sherlock said putting his hands, palms together to his face. "He is in prison and there for not my problem right now." He looked at her. "He has charmed you." He said cocking his head. "Really. You got taken in? You do know what he did? To all those women? I think you would be a little more…"

"He is charming." She said cutting him off. "And that is why I know he is dangerous, Sherlock. I see a lot of your mother in him."

Sherlock winced. "Seriously? It broke her heart when she found out about him."

"The cost of having too much brains perhaps."

"Of thank God neither of us are burdened with that." He looked at her and arched an eyebrow. "Our whole family isn't normal."

She laughed. "All high functioning sociopaths?"

"Perhaps." He smirked. "Maybe it is a family trait."

"You aren't and neither is Mycroft." She smiled and stepped to him. "We have dealt with those people. You aren't one despite your claims. A sociopath could never love his daughter or the woman who carried her and you do."

"Well, I suppose you have me there." He said looking at her.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned back, hanging from him as his hands naturally went to her hips. They were fuller since she had given birth, but childbirth had added to her curves, not detracted from them and her stomach was nearly flat again. Lithe, athletic, and beautifully his.

She smiled and turned. She went to the swing and lifted the sleeping infant into her arms and walked her to the bedroom. She heard Sherlock behind her, following, watching her in almost a predatory manner. She laid the baby down in her crib and cooed as her eyes opened a little. At the sound of her mother humming a soft lullaby, she drifted again into sleep.

Sherlock had closed the door and moved about undressing and getting ready for bed as she touched the tiny cheek. He came behind her and smiled, his large hand going and resting on his child's chest. She took a deep breath and began to snore lightly. Mari smiled and giggled a little even as her husband pursed his lips at her.

He took her hands and pulled her to the center of the room looking at her. The camisole had ridden up and he smiled seeing her taught, sensitive belly flesh. He reached up and pulled his dressing gown from her and let it pool at her feet. Next he walked her backwards to the bed, his hands making quick work of her sleep pants. He pressed her onto the bed as he knelt before her. He pressed a kiss to her knee and looked up at her, playfully.

"Do you know how long I have wanted to make love to you?" He asked. "Patience is not really one of my virtues." He said nuzzling the outside of her bare thigh. He then nipped it causing her to start and look down at him.

"Oh if people knew the real you…" She whispered at him. "They would…"

He shifted then silencing her with his mouth pressed her hers as his hands quickly pulled at her clothing and his own. He looked down at her as she looked up at him supple, wanting, and his. "I love you." He whispered.

"I know." She said and then gasped in pleasure as he continued his love making with sure, swift, and loving talent.

ZzZ

Elizabeth Holmes smiled as she entered the common room of 221 B Baker Street. It was a rare treat to have her daughter-in-law and the baby all to herself. She, however, froze hearing violin music as she came to the door.

Was her son there after all? She opened the door to reveal Marion standing with the baby on the floor looking up at her. Marion was playing the violin to the surprise of Elizabeth. The elder Mrs. Holmes froze in amazement and the younger smiled before ending the song she had been playing.

"That was beautiful!" Elizabeth commented and Marion bowed.

"It soothes her when Sherlock is away."

"Did he teach you?"

"Of course." Mari smiled as she put it to the side. It had been something he discovered she really had an aptitude for and she was a natural at it. She worked hard, knowing she would never quite be as good as he was, but he was no less impressed and proud at her accomplishment.

"Amazing."

"Let me make us some tea, mum." Mari said.

Elizabeth smiled and bent lifting her tiny infant granddaughter from the floor to hold her. She was Lizzy's namesake after all, something Sherlock had done to please his mother, despite his protests otherwise. She smiled and held the baby close to her watching as the big eyes took her in, knowing her scent, face, and heartbeat well.

Though the Holmes' lived in the country in an estate home, they were still close enough to come visit. Something Elisabeth did often to the chagrin of her two sons, but the pleasure of her daughter-in-law who loved the idea of family and being with them.

Mari smiled watching the grandmother with her own grandchild. She had asked once if Elizabeth had ever expected to have grandchildren. She had commented back her best bet had been on Sherrin, but when he had proved to be something of a terrible human being she had given up on her other two boys who were not interested in women at all so far as she could tell.

Now she had a daughter-in-law, a very social, loving, and fun daughter-in-law who loved to go shopping, to lunch, and just talk, something the elder Mrs. Holmes had craved. She had given up being a world renowned mathematician to be a mother to three boys who were the smartest, but most socially inept she could imagine. The grandbaby she now had made it all worth the pain.

Marion saw her daughter yawning and moved to collect her. She smiled at Elizabeth and drew a cloth over her as she nursed her before taking her back to the bedroom for a nap. Elizabeth smiled as she returned.

"She has grown since I last saw her." She whispered.

Mari smiled. "You can talk normally, mum. She would sleep through nuclear attack. She has slept through sirens of Lestrade coming, Sherlock yelling at people, and other such things."

Elizabeth smiled and took her tea in her hand. "How are you and Sherlock doing then?"

"Well. He is on a case as you note his absence."

"Is he or did you just tell him I was coming so he could escape."

"I…"

"Don't worry dear, it keeps it from being awkward for us all." Elizabeth smiled patting her hand.

"Well this time he is really on a case with Lestrade, but I feel I need him to bring home a note."

Elizabeth laughed. "Hardly. Shall we go shopping when the little dear wakes up?"

"Sounds wonderful." Mari said sipping her tea. "I know a nice little place for a snack as well. They have Chocolate croissants."

Elizabeth smiled. "That does sound lovely."

ZzZ

Sherlock looked across the table at his wife who looked radiant. Lizzy was being watched by her grandmother while the two went on the first date they really had been on for nearly a year. She smiled looking up at him in the awkward silence.

"This is almost as bad as a first date." She smiled a little as she lifted her wine.

"No at least we know each other."

She chuckled. "True, but I feel like I have just landed a date with the best guy at school." She said noting the subversive looks from people about them.

"Do you want to leave?"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world." She said smiling more.

He chuckled and took her hand. "A year. Can you believe it?"

"No." She said. "I have put up with a fair amount in that amount of time."

"Indeed. Honestly, I think you deserve sainthood for putting up with me."

"Do you really think you are that bad?"

"Well I do have some redeeming qualities."

"Yeah you are pretty good in bed." She said smirking into her glass.

He rolled his eyes.

Their dinner came and he released her hand. She smiled as she dove into her plate and he did as well. After, while waiting for dessert, he took her hand again. "Marion…"

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

"I cannot possibly express how I feel. I am not really one for words of sentiment, but between you and John, you saved me. I love you. Know that. I love you with my soul and I can't let anything happen to you, ever." He said.

She smiled, leaning forward and kissing his palm lightly. "I am not going anywhere, Sherlock Holmes."

He smiled. "Good."

His phone chimed and he hissed.

Dessert arrived and it chimed again.

She cocked her head. "Someone wants you. Do you need to get that?" She asked.

"Not on my anniversary." He said.

The third one made him growl something. "Marion I am sorry, I truly am."

"You are the man I married. The world's only consulting detective."

"You are entirely too calm about this." He said opening his phone. "Aren't women supposed to be annoyed when someone interrupts their anniversaries?"

"That is assuming I am a typical woman."

"Well there is that." He said nodding. "You are anything, but ordinary." He opened his messages and read them.

_Sherlock there is a murder I need you to look at. 360 Hibbard Street. G Lestrade. _

_Anytime you want to respond would be good. G Lestrade. _

_I know you are just ignoring me now. Come on, it will be fun. There are three dead bodies here, without any trace of a weapon or blood, or signs of poisoning. G Lestrade. _

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "It is Lestrade. Can I see you home first?" He asked. Marion's phone chirped and she looked down.

_Is he with you Marion? Can you have him actually answer his texts? Greg _

_Yes. I will send him on his way. Marion _She sent back.

Her phone chirped again as he lifted her coat for her. She pulled it on as he moved to pay. Her phone chirped again. _On second thought, you come too. We need someone with linguistic skills and charm. Greg_

She smiled and typed. _Happy anniversary to us. Marion _

Sherlock was waiting at the door as she walked to him, his collar up and his scarf around his neck. "Change of plans." She said. Greg Lestrade had had her help at times with linguistics before since she knew many languages and was able to do so quickly. In tandem with her husband and John the three were a force to be reckoned with.

"Oh?" He asked moving to flag a taxi.

"Yes. I am coming with you." She said lifting her phone.

Sherlock smiled. "Well my dear, a very happy anniversary to us." He said kissing her mouth as a taxi pulled over. He opened the door and she climbed in with a smile and he followed.

"Indeed, Mr. Holmes." She said.

"Where to?" The taxi driver said.

Sherlock lifted his phone. "360 Hibbard Street." He said checking the address.

"Very good sir."

Marion's phone chirped. _Are you serious? Why didn't you tell me sooner? We can manage until tomorrow. Greg_

_You know he will want to see the scene. Besides. I am coming too. Thank you for the distraction. Marion_

_Okay then. See you when you arrive. Happy Anniversary! Greg _

Marion looked at her husband checking his phone. "He says happy anniversary."

"Indeed. Perhaps he should gift wrap it. Why are you coming?" He sighed looking down to text John.

_You are needed Dr. Watson. Games are afoot. 360 Hibbard. SH_

_Aren't you supposed to be on your anniversary dinner? John_

_I am. Mari is coming to. She was asked to be there. SH_

"_Seriously? Can't you two even date normal? John_

_Why do we need to date normal? We are married. See you there. SH_

"Apparently my linguistic skills are needed." She smiled.

"Oh and here I was thinking of other things you could do with that lovely mouth of yours." He said smirking as he didn't look at her.

She laughed and swatted him playfully as they rode to the crime scene. For the Holmes' it was the end to a perfect night. A good dinner, lovely conversation, and a crime to solve that they both could be a part in.


	16. The Evil Within

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 16 – The Evil Within

April 13 2012

Lestrade and Holmes stood over a woman in the East End who had been brutally attacked, stabbed multiple times, and left for dead wrapped in a sheet in an alley. John was looking her over with Anderson as Sherlock looked about.

His daughter was now a year old and he had been married for a year and seven months. He was happy, content, and still solving crimes as ever. However, this case was different. Mari, his beloved wife was often not involved, but this case he knew he was going to need her opinion, despite the fact he knew it was going to be hard on her. She had consulted once already on a rape case and it had taken her a while to mend.

This would be the same, but he would be there to support her. He stood and lifted his phone. It was still early, only five, but already dark. There was something hauntingly familiar about this. _Mari can you join us please? I need your thoughts. SH_

_I can leave Lizzy with Mrs. Hudson. On my way. Mari _

She had become used to being summoned at odd times in a case. Lestrade would at times phone her or John, but more often her husband who wanted her thoughts due to her experience she had shown in linguistics and other fields such as psychology and anthropology both she had her degrees in. She had returned to work at the New Year and was happy to have something to do. She also had in March received her second doctorate making her have the most degrees of anyone Sherlock knew on the planet.

It took Mari less than twenty minutes to get there. She arrived, stepping out of the taxi, she paid and walked to the police line. She lifted her phone. _I'm here, Greg. She texted for me. Marion_

"You need to stay back Miss." The officer said.

"I was summoned." She said.

"Ah, Marion. Welcome." Lestrade said coming to the tape. He lifted it for her to duck under.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I am not sure why he called you. Not much in the line of linguistics here." He said. "Female, mid twenties to early thirties, raped, and murdered." Mari froze at rape, but then coughed and lifted her head. Lestrade looked at her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She said. She pulled on some gloves and Sherlock looked at her. "Hello." She said.

"Thanks for coming." Sherlock said. He squatted down as she did.

She lifted the sheet and looked at the body. Ligature marks on her neck, blow that would have stunned her, but was not lethal. "She was blitzed." She said.

"What?" John asked.

"The blow. Stunned her, but it didn't kill her." Mari said.

Sherlock was watching her. "Are you all right?"

"Perfectly." She said lifting her chin.

Lestrade looked at Anderson who nodded slightly. She then looked at the woman who was naked.

"She was pretty." Mari said. "Someone will miss her."

"Drug user? Prostitute?" Lestrade asked.

"Neither." Sherlock said. "More likely a student."

She looked down and then lifted her wrist. Her eyes widened and she took a breath before rising to her feet.

She moved to walk away and Sherlock lifted the victim's arm. A burn, more to the point, it was a star. A brand, and it had been done recently and from the blistering, while the woman was alive. "I need a picture of this." He said lifting his phone and taking the picture.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm not sure." Sherlock said. He rose to his feet and followed his wife who was halfway down the block.

He caught up to her. He caught her hand pulling her into an alley. "'And all the stars of mine are lights in the sky of my world.'"

"Pardon, what?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"What can you tell me?"

"He will kill again, but you know that."

"The hesitation marks, but why are you upset?"

"It is a rape case." She said. "I need to go home."

He took her shoulder. "What is with the mark?" He asked.

"No. Not now, Sherlock. Later perhaps." She said.

He blinked as she turned and walked away from him.

Startled he thought to call her back, but the stood watching her vanish into the night.

ZzZ

Lestrade looked at Sherlock as he returned. "She has seen dead before."

"She does not do well with rape cases."

"Then why did you have her come?" John asked.

"We need answers. In a hurry. Before he kills again." Sherlock said.

"How do you know he will again?"

"These marks are hesitation marks. He didn't kill her right off. He hesitated. Working up to the kill." He sighed. "He will kill again and soon. I would saw from the ligature marks on her wrists and neck, she was held at least two days."

Lestrade blinked. "So he could be out there killing again?"

"Hunting certainly." Sherlock said. "He likes red heads."

"Oh?"

"Yes. This girl was top and bottom. Much like my wife, but you don't really need to know that." Sherlock said looking at Lestrade's face. "Be on the lookout, Detective Inspector." Sherlock said and moved to leave.

"Hang on where are you going?"

"To see to my wife."

"That traumatic to see a woman so?"

Sherlock sighed. "My wife was brutally raped herself. I need to go speak with her."

Lestrade blinked again. "And you let her see this?"

"Yes, I needed her thoughts."

"You really are a cruel bastard." Lestrade hissed.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

John sighed. "Yeah. Imagine living with him." He said. "See you soon Greg."

ZzZ

Sherlock came home and found Marion had not come home yet. Mrs. Hudson came out from her flat holding Lizzy who had woken from sleeping. Sherlock took her. "Is Marion home yet?" He knew the answer, but still.

"No." Mrs. Hudson said.

Sherlock nodded and went upstairs. He gently changed his daughter before putting her in her own crib to sleep. He then lifted his phone. _Marion where are you? SH_

_I am nearly home. _

_You didn't take a taxi? SH_

_No. Close to Baker Street. I should be home in less than thirty. _

He sighed and frowned. John had gone to his own room when Sherlock, who was seated in his chair sat hands pressed together heard his wife come. She walked up the stairs and into the flat. She sighed seeing him and shook her head a little she turned to go to the bedroom, but he was on his feet, his hand on her elbow.

"Marion. Please."

"Sherlock. I love you, but there are times you can be so cruel. Even when you don't mean to be." She said.

She entered the washroom and leaned to start the water. She gasped startled that he had followed her. He shut the door behind him and folded his arms looking at her. "All right, sweetheart, out with it." He said.

She took a breath and seemed to ignore him as she slowly pulled her clothing off and stepped into the bath. He watched her feeling himself stir a little, but he resisted as she sat down and turned the water off. She then looked up at him. "What do you want to know?" She asked.

"The sign. The brand. It was made by heating something to over 149 degree Celsius." He watched her as she touched her arm and put it in the water, wincing. He knew that look. He had experienced it as well.

Flashbacks.

Mari shuddered as the images of her body being held down by more than one man, being forced to have sex, to being strangled and tied down, then the burn…a brand.

She gasped and looked up at him. Her eyes held terror and loathing…

He dropped by the edge. "You know this mark don't you." He said.

She took a breath and then nodded, tears in her eyes. He lifted his phone with the image on it. She took a breath and looked at it. Her eyes flicked up to him. Her breathing and pulse had become more erratic. He looked at her and then, without rolling up his sleeve, he plunged his hand into the water. He gripped her arm, lifting her forward up. Her left one, the same one as the woman.

He looked at her wet arm. Under the scars made by self harm, all those cuts were linear across her arm, but there was an outline under, near her wrist. The faint outline of a star. If he connected the marks, they made the exact pattern.

His green eyes lifted as tears ran down her cheeks. "Oh, Mari…" He whispered.

"Do you have any idea what that feels like? To have a hot piece of metal pressed to your flesh, held there, making a brand."

"But why?"

She looked at him as his finger caressed her wrist softly. "A brand. What do people do to cattle?" She looked at him. She took a breath seeing his lost look. "It is a mark of ownership. I am no longer my own person. I belong to someone. It is a way to take away even basic freedom." She said.

He looked at her. "No."

"No?"

"No I have no idea what it is like." He took a breath. "But I do want to be supportive. I know what pain this has caused you. But if that man is active again and this time killing women not just raping them." He looked at her, shifting to look at her. "You are the only one who can help."

"No." She said. "I am not the only one."

"Absolutely not. Are you insane?"

"You have a killer who liked women. He can offer his insights just as well as I can." She sighed. "More so I was a little girl who lost a month."

"How many men?" He asked.

"At least three, but only one…the youngest…did anything."

"What about the others?"

"They each had their turn, but then…"

"Then?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Then they watched…"

"Vermin in packs." He hissed.

She took a breath. "Yes."

He looked at her. "You said, ''And all the stars of mine are lights in the sky of my world', before. What does that mean?"

She took a shaky breath. "The man. He called me one of his stars." She said. "The light of his world."

"How romantic…" He said arching an eyebrow.

"Oh yes. So easy to forget that he has taken everything from you when he says such poetry." She said, voice dripping acid.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. Sorry. It is just really…hard for me Sherlock. Even after so long…"

He lifted a hand to her cheek. "I don't care."

"What?" She looked up at him.

"I don't care what they did to you. You are mine now. You wear the wedding ring I gave you. It isn't a brand, and it is not a sign of ownership, just great affection and caring, such that I am capable. I love you with all my heart. Know that." He bent his head and kissed her scarred forearm. He knew well that this was just a manifestation of the scars on her heart and soul. He had his own scars and baggage, but she had been able to cope due to her own problems. They were well matched.

She touched his cheek with her other hand. "Sherlock. We have to go see him."

"He won't want to see me."

"He will if we make this interesting to him." She said.

"Just what the hell have you done to make him even like you?"

"That isn't important. I just talk to him." She said.

He sighed. "All right, but I think you are more of use."

"Let your personal bias be. He can help from one side and I the other."

He lifted his chin. "All right." He leaned and kissed her softly. "Hey. I love you."

She rose to her feet looking at him, dripping. "Take me to bed, Sherlock Holmes."

He smiled and rose to his feet. He then helped her step out of the tub and then lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, his eyes locked with hers before he shut the door and dropped his head to hers for a kiss.

ZzZ

Three more women had died, brutally raped, murdered, and left for dead like rubbish. All were red headed. Each had the brand, the mark that Sherlock explained to Lestrade, showing a picture of his wife's older scar. When Lestrade and Donovan failed to see it, he drew into the lines, connecting them.

These women were two weeks apart and had all been in captivity for two days or more. Lestrade was at his wits end and so was Sherlock, though when Lestrade asked how Sherlock had a scar on a survivor, Sherlock had nodded at Mari who was standing in the bullpen talking to Donovan. Lestrade had taken her to a room with her husband to talk to him.

Though high embarrassed and scared she seemed determined to lay this ghost. Lestrade then asked about the brand and she had looked at her husband. At a nod from him, she rolled up her jumper sleeve revealing the hundreds of scars from self-harm and the remains of the burn.

Lestrade was amazed by this revelation. They had a witness. A live witness.

But they needed more.

ZzZ

Sherlock took a breath as he walked with Marion to the secure room. He had not seen his brother in nearly eight years. Not since the day he had testified and put him into lifetime imprisonment for what he had done. Mycroft had helped putting the two brothers against their less stable elder brother.

Marion sat down setting down her bag as she looked at the glass. Sherlock stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

The door behind the glass opened and two men brought a middle aged man in and sat him on the chair. The two orderlies walked out and the man looked up, green eyes taking in the pair.

"Well, well, I always knew you would come walking through my door, Sherl." He said.

Sherlock took a deep breath. "Sherrinford." He said icily.

"Is he always so unfeeling? I remember him as the village idiot of the household." Sherrin said rising looking at his sister-in-law.

"I am not a serial killer." Sherlock said. "Which is more than I can say for you."

"Stop it both of you." She said. "Sherrin we came because we need your help."

"My help?" He said.

Sherlock sighed and moved between them. "This is clearly a waste of time, Mari."

"No." Sherrin said. "What can I perhaps aide you in, little brother mine?" He smiled. "After all you are the grand detective of London now. Why on earth would you need me?"

Sherlock took a breath and opened a file he had been holding. He pressed the picture open file, the morgue photo to the glass. "Monica Chelsea. 24. Star student. Dead six weeks ago." He said. He lifted another. "Kerrin Thomas. 28. Star athlete. Dead four weeks ago."

Sherrin looked at the pictures. "Pretty." He said. "I am not into red heads I prefer blondes."

"That really isn't the point brother mine." Sherlock said.

Sherrin looked at Marion. "So this is how he passes his time now? He is a father and now he solves crimes as a way to have the same rush and not use drugs anymore."

Sherlock growled and turned away.

"I didn't say I wouldn't help you." Sherrin said. "Let me read the files."

"Are you insane?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. Why the hell else would I be here? Now the files, Sherl."

"No."

"Do you want my help or not?" Sherrin asked looking directly at Marion.

She nodded and walked to the small two way door. She placed the files in the door. They had been thoroughly checked by the warden. He could see them. Sherrin smiled and took them. "Thank you, dear sister. At least someone in the family has a level head."

Sherrin turned and sat down on his chair dropping the files before him, reading them, looking for clues. He closed his eyes and then looked up at Marion. "These killing are escalating."

"What?"

"Like me, this man is getting bored." He said. "He is showing his true nature. Look at the stab wounds. First body they are shallow and lucky he took her life. Second he was surer, but still took a few tries. Third, he hit her aorta, killing her instantly." He took a breath. "These kills are not about the rapes."

"What?"

Marion looked at Sherrin. "Why do you say that?"

"These women are all hard marks."

"Hard marks?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. They could all fight back hence he had to surprise them. Many rapists chose their victims by how they behave." He looked at Marion and rose to his feet. "He treats you like a victim, doesn't he."

"What?" Marion asked.

"Sherl treats you like a victim. Why would he do that? Unless…." He looked back at the files and then up and caught Marion's gaze. "This is not about the rapes at all. It is a message."

"Oh?"

"This women are raped and killed." Sherrin said. "Someone, such as myself, would try to win these women over. Sex is not the object, neither is death. It is a game between the police and the criminal."

Sherlock stepped forward. "Or the detective and the criminal."

"Oh, so you can keep up. Better than you were as a child. Maybe those drugs did you some good."

"But why rape and kill them if that isn't what it is about." Marion asked.

"Why indeed, my dear sister? What do they all have in common?"

"Small build, athletic, red haired, smart, and…" Sherlock paused and then looked at his wife. "And all he has branded he has killed."

"Except one." Sherrin said looking straight at Marion. "His first. She is always his special. The light of his whole career because she shaped him and made him into what he is. Once he was able to get away with what he did, he had to do more to keep up the thrill."

Sherlock looked up. "How did you know Marion has the brand?"

"I didn't until just now." Sherrin said. "Lucky guess by how she is holding her left arm, covering the exact spot where the brand is on the other women…"

Sherlock whirled. "We need to get you to a safe place, Marion."

"You are welcome, brother do come again."

"Thank you, Sherrin, you were most helpful." Sherlock said. "I'll send a Christmas card."

Sherrin touched the glass. "Just keep her safe, Sherlock. I rather enjoy her company and it would be a shame if my idiot brother got her killed."

Sherlock pulled his wife out the door and into the hallway. He blinked. "Okay I will admit he was of use."

He looked at his phone as it chimed. _Did you miss me? _

He shook his head and took his wife home.

ZzZ

1 week later

Sherlock and John were in the main room while Marion was in the back with the baby. Lizzy had been cranky because she was teething. Marion had managed to get her to go to sleep after giving her some baby pain medicine and let her chew on a frozen baby toy. Marion had sprawled on the bed. Her husband was working on something in the kitchen. He was looking at something in his microscope while John read the paper.

Marion heard Sherlock's phone chime. He had been ignoring most of the morning. She did not move from where she was, but she heard John walk to the kitchen.

"Not now, I'm busy." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock…"

"Not now…"

"He's back."

Marion got to her feet and walked to the kitchen as Sherlock looked up from the microscope and read the text. _Come and Play. Tower Hill. Jim Moriarty x. _

Sherlock took a breath and then looked at Marion who looked at him.

"Who is it?" She asked. He passed his phone to her. She read and then looked up at him, wide eyed.

"I have to go to Scotland Yard." He rose to his feet and walked to her. He took her hand and bent pressing a kiss to her mouth even as she didn't respond. He let go of her hand. "I will be back soon."

She nodded. "Be safe." She said remembering this was the name of the man. He had tried to blow up Sherlock and John before leaving because of a call. John had told her about the ending of "The Great Game" as he called it. He had been the one put in a bomb and it had affected him. Marion had also almost died at his hands when her water had been tainted with amphetamines. Thankfully she suffered no lasting effects and Lizzy had been born only small and unable to suck for the first couple weeks of life.

Sherlock pulled on his coat and scarf and nodded. "Always, Habibi."

John had disappeared, but reappeared, dressed and ready to go. The pair left and went to Scotland Yard where they looked at video of Moriarty shattering the glass around the jewels using a diamond and a fire extinguisher.

Sherlock looked at the video that said. "Get Sherlock" and sighed. He looked at Lestrade and shook his head.

ZzZ

John and Sherlock returned home. Sherlock cocked his head. He could hear screaming. They had been gone only two hours, but the screaming was from Lizzy. He ran up the stairs and into the flat. He looked about and froze seeing a cup of tea on the ground, shattered.

John went back and picked up Lizzy who nearly instantly calmed in the arms of someone she knew. He held her as he looked at Sherlock as the man dropped down and touched the spilled tea with his hand as he scanned the room.

There was a bloody razorblade on the floor, the saucer, and a plate that had held something. He looked about. What the hell had happened?

Nothing else was out of place of the furniture, but the tea was still warm. Mari had left in a hurry only a few minutes before them. He moved to the stairs and looked. Scuff marks, similar from when the Americans had captured Mrs. Hudson, but in reverse.

He turned and then saw red hair on the door, stuck with blood to the door. Someone had cracked her head against the door, the only way to stun a Krav Maga master to kidnap her. Stunning her was the only way to take her down. She had beaten two of Mycroft's men quite handily even pregnant. Now back to teaching and her natural body that would be the only way to subdue her.

"Moriarty." He hissed. He pulled out his phone.

_Lestrade. Marion has been taken. I need Anderson and a team of your least irritating people here. SH_

A moment later. _On our way. Lestrade_

Sherlock looked at John as he bounced the baby. "Take her to Mrs. Hudson. We need to find clues to free Marion."

"She has been taken?" John asked.

"Almost certainly." Sherlock said as he heard the wail of sirens in the distance.

ZzZ

Sherlock was squatted by the tea cup looking at it. He looked up as Anderson came up with Lestrade behind him. "My wife has been taken."

"You are sure?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes. She would never leave Lizzy alone by herself." He said looking at the placement of everything. "Did you leave a message for us?"

Anderson looked at the cup and then the saucer and the bloody razor blade. "They hurt her?"

"No." Sherlock said. "She was cutting herself. See the drip pattern."

"She cut herself?" Lestrade said.

"Yes, my wife is a cutter when she is stressed of anxious." Sherlock said. "I smoke and she cuts her arm."

"The scaring on her forearm." Lestrade said.

"Yes." Sherlock said. He then looked about. "Everyone shut up!" He barked.

Anderson froze where he was beside the cup. The cup was shattered and the tea splashed and cooling. Lestrade stood near the kitchen with John and they all stayed put.

It was Anderson who spoke first. "Sherlock. Why did she drop the tea when she was seated?"

"What?" Sherlock and Lestrade asked.

"She was sitting here, cutting herself and the tea is there." Anderson cocked his head lifting an ultraviolet light to the tea as Sherlock looked down. H-E-L-P was washed by the tea, but still remained in blood under it. She had written it in her own blood. She knew she was in danger.

Sherlock blinked. "That actually was quite brilliant, Anderson."

"Thank you."

Sherlock lifted his phone. "But how did she know?" He looked and then saw that the chair had been moved as well as the table according to the marks on the floor. "They moved everything back, but didn't have time to move the tea."

"What?" Lestrade asked.

"The marks. The chair was two inches that way and the table was four inches closer." He cocked his head and then lifted his phone. He dialed his wife. A second passed and then her tone, a melody played. He looked and then reached for it in the cushions of her chair. He took a breath. "They wanted to make it look like she had just left, but she spoiled it, by spilling tea."

He lifted it and flicked it open knowing her code. He went to her messages. _Well hello darling, you look beautiful, mind if I join you? Jim_

_Who are you?_

_If you don't know you will soon. Tell Sherlock hi for me. Jim. _

_On our way home, Mari. SH_

"Jim who?" Lestrade asked.

"Jim Moriarty." Sherlock said.

"He can't send these. He is in prison."

"I don't think you realize his web." Sherlock said. He took a breath. "It is a warning."

"He tried to kill her once."

"And he will try again." Sherlock said.

Sherlock's phone chimed and he looked down. _We have been here before. But don't be sore. Where the Tong go to perform, that is where you should swarm. She is in danger by the second. _

Sherlock looked at the text and cocked his head. He put his hands together and reached for a nicotine patch. Applying it he took a breath and flexed his arm. He then looked at his phone again. "The Tong…The Tong…"

John came to him. "The Tong go to perform?" He cocked his head.

Sherlock took a deep breath.

ZzZ

Marion woke. Her arm ached and was dripping blood. She looked about. She had the worst headache. She found herself leaning. She put out a hand. She gasped as she encountered glass. She pressed about her as she became more aware. She was in a glass cylinder. She looked up hearing something and then she gasped as water started to dump onto her. She gasped as the water flowed at her feet. "What? Stop…What is going on?!"

She coughed as she looked up and the water poured into her face.

"Who are you?" She shouted and then looked down at the water at her feet starting to pool. Her greatest fear was drowning. She loved to swim, but could never in places other than a swimming pool because of her fear. She started to try to hit the glass, but she was weakened from her cutting herself and her head wound.

ZzZ

Sherlock sat quietly within his Mind Palace as the other three sat and waited. Then Sherlock gasped. "The Tong!" He looked at John. "The Black Lotus." He said. He rose to his feet grabbing his jacket and scarf.

"Wait where are you going?" Lestrade asked.

"The Chinese Theater. Thirty minutes by car, twenty-five if we have some help." He said looking meaningfully at Lestrade.

Lestrade nodded and moved to his car. He got in and put his light on the roof of his car as Anderson and John got in the back and Sherlock got into the passenger seat. They then started off with Lestrade's siren blaring.

Sherlock's phone chimed. _Oh, great you can keep up. She is more than in a cup. Water, water up to the knee, but soon, oh gee! Help me, help me, she cries. _Sherlock hissed. "He is drowning her."

"What?" John asked.

Sherlock passed him his phone as Lestrade weaved through traffic and called for help.

ZzZ

Marion gasped. She was up to her neck at the top. She tried to calm herself. She was of no use if she panicked. Sherlock would find her. She grunted as the water kept filling on her head.

ZzZ

Ten minutes left. _Hurry up, she's dying. _

ZzZ

Marion pressed her nose to the top of the grate on the cylinder. Soon. Too soon she would not be able to breathe anymore. The grate was set below the edge of the cylinder. Death crept up by inches. She gasped and tried to take as many slow breaths as she could as she pressed against the grate trying to lift it.

"Help me!"

ZzZ

Five minutes left. _All the world is a stage, too bad she isn't a mage. Water can be so silly, just goes willy-nilly. But be warned, delay and all is forelorned. _

They arrived at the theater and Lestrade looked. "It isn't open, we need a key to…"

Sherlock hissed and lifted a brick he found from the wall. It broke the glass and he stepped through holding his torch to look about.

"Or we can do that…" Lestrade said. "Sure what the hell. Life in danger…" He followed Sherlock.

Once inside they came to where the stage area was. A curtain was down and there was nothing else there. Sherlock looked about. "All the world's a stage..." He repeated.

Lestrade heard something. He went to the stage and put his torch about. On the edge there was dripping water. "Sherlock…look…" He said.

"Water." Sherlock said touching it.

He jumped back as the curtain fell down, saturated revealing a cylinder with Marion, suspended in it, not moving. "Oh my God!" Lestrade said.

John ran to it and looked at it. "Marion!"

Sherlock looked about. "Everyone get back!" He barked as he shoved a heavy crane piece at the cylinder. The metal shattered the glass and released the surge of water and Marion, who dropped lifeless to the floor.

John rolled her over and felt her neck. "Marion!" He barked. There was a pulse. She was alive…barely. He pushed her hair from her face and pinched her nose. He breathed into her lungs twice and turned his head as Sherlock dropped beside him taking his wife's wrist in his hand to feel her pulse.

"Come on Marion!" He barked.

Again John breathed into her.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

Her pulse was fading.

Again.

This time she stirred, coughing, spewing water up from her lungs onto John who jumped backwards. Her eyes opened and she coughed hard. Sherlock rolled her onto her back and pressed the heels of his hands into her back to help her rid herself of the water. He didn't stop until she pressed back on her arms panting.

She panted and then smiled weakly. "I knew you would find me." She said looking up at them as she rolled onto her back.

"That was close. Too damn close." Lestrade said touching her hand. He lifted his phone. "I need an ambulance right away."

Sherlock looked at his wife, his eyes wild. She reached up and touched his cheek as her breath calmed. "How many times is this man going to try to kill me?"

Sherlock lifted a headband that she was wearing. On it there were the following words. _When you deal with the devil, you will always lose and be burned. _Sherlock shook his head. "He will not touch you again." He swore and bent to kiss her wet brow. "I won't let him. He won't play games with my family. Not again…"

"Oh?" She asked.

He nodded and held her hand firmly as he heard the ambulance arrive. He took out his phone. "Hello, brother dear. How are you?" He asked looking at his wife as the paramedics rushed to her to take her to hospital.


	17. Breaking Point

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 17 – Breaking Point

May 28th 2012

Marion was softly signing to her daughter as rain pelted against the window pane. She looked down at the drowsy little girl and smiled. She sighed. The little thing was thirteen months now. The girl yawned and then closed her eyes, bring lulled by the lullaby and the rain.

How much she looked like her father when she slept. Dark curly hair wreathed her pale skinned face. Dark eye lashes rested on her high sharp cheek bones as she gurgled a little as she shifted in her sleep.

Marion bent her head to kiss the small forehead and breathe in the calming baby scent that surrounded her, the delightful mix of baby shampoo from her bath, Lizzy's own delicate scent, and the faint traces of the laundry soap Marion used.

"She is so beautiful when she sleeps." A soft male said at the door.

Marion smiled a little as she shifted the baby. A clap of thunder crashed as she laid Lizzy into the crib by the wall. Lizzy didn't even flinch. She continued to fall more asleep as Marion's song ended and she pulled the blanket up on her daughter. She would sleep a couple hours.

Marion then turned to see Sherlock standing in the doorway. She smiled and walked toward him. He stepped to the side so she could walk out and gently shut the door behind her. She led the way to a sitting room and smiled as he took her hand in his as he followed her in.

Marion looked up at him. She had not seen him in nearly three weeks. She took a breath and turned to him as he held her hand. He bent and kissed her. At first it was a soft kiss, like a welcome that fanned into something deeper. His hand was buried in her hair.

When he pulled back enough to speak, he searched her face, green eyes dilated with arousal as he looked at her. "I am testifying tomorrow." He whispered looking at her.

"Does that mean I can come home?" She asked panting, breathless.

"Oh, God I hope so. I have missed you." He murmured before pressing his lips to hers again, his hands coming up to cup her face between his long fingers. "In my life, in my arms, in my bed…" He said shifting to kiss her neck, nibbling as he went.

He then pulled back, by sheer force of will, knowing if he continued, he would be having her somewhere in the room and that was rather unseemly for if someone, anyone could walk in such as her protection detail or his own brother. One the other hand, the prospect was strangely thrilling.

He smiled a little looking at her. "How has my brother been treating you?" He asked.

"Like royalty." Marion said.

"Aggravating is it?" He asked.

"Terribly boring. I only can play with Lizzy and talk to him at dinner. Otherwise it is Matthew and Jericho."

"Jericho?" He cocked his head. "Seriously?"

"Yes. He is Israeli by blood." She smiled. "I spare with him. He is actually quite good for a second grade master." She smiled a little. "Matthew is a talker though. He likes really trashy telly." She smiled.

"Indeed." He said. He had been pressing her backwards, without really consciously realizing it to the desk. She bumped into it and his hands, naturally went to her hips and lifted her onto it. At that height she was perfectly aligned to cradle his hips between her supple thighs as the dress she was wearing pooled about her knees.

"Sherlock…we can't not here…"She whispered.

"Why not?" He asked. "There is no one about…" He murmured his head dropping next to hers.

Damn him.

She licked her tongue over her teeth and smiled. "Mycroft would never forgive you for making love to me on his desk."

"That isn't really something to tell me to stop me, my dear. If anything that gives me more incentive." He said looking at her, his hands splayed on her back.

"Oh, but I might stop you." Mycroft said. Marion smiled and blushed seeing her brother-in-law at the doorway. "Honestly, that is not an image I want when I sit there."

Marion chuckled and buried her face in her husband's shirt as he rolled his eyes and looked back at his brother. "No sense of adventure, my dear brother. Good thing you came. I was seriously thinking to ravish her senseless."

"Dear lord, I never thought you to be a rabbit, Sherlock." Mycroft said.

"A rabbit?" Sherlock asked.

"He means having sex often, Sherlock." Marion said pushing her husband back slightly so she could hop down off the desk where she was perched.

"You do not have a wife. You can't possibly understand what it means to be away from one for so long." Sherlock said turning fully to his brother.

"I am still having trouble comprehending you and sex in the same sentence let alone wife." Mycroft said coming into the room. "Hello, Marion, how are you dear?" He asked in a brighter tone. He was dressed in a suit and tie and holding a file.

"What are you in such a good mood about?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft came to Marion and lifted a file. "We found him, Marion."

"What?" She asked looking at the file as he gave it to her. She read it over.

Sherlock joined her, looking over her shoulder.

"Yes," Mycroft said sitting down in his chair. "He drug overdosed found him with the star. He used a kitchen torch to heat it. Turns out he was a master cook."

Sherlock blinked. "This is clear a set up?"

"That he was found dead?"

"Yes. Look the needle is broken off in his arm. That wasn't an overdose by a junkie, it was an overdose for murder." Sherlock looked up. "What was in the syringe?"

"Diazepam and morphine."

"A hot shot? Really?" Marion asked.

Sherlock looked at his wife. "Only former addicts and police know that name, my love and you are neither as far as I know."

"I don't chase the dragon either, but I know that term and I know the smell." She said.

Mycroft nodded and Sherlock's eyebrow lifted.

"Either way, he was murdered Mycroft."

"It is a low priority. The man preyed on women and killed four."

"Doesn't that strike you as a little too easy?" Sherlock asked.

"Why?"

"Because my wife's rapist is practically gift wrapped for you." Sherlock said.

Marion winced. Sherlock took her hand. He held it.

Mycroft looked at his sister-in-law. "In truth he was removed. As a drug user it was easy enough to slip the diazepam to him. The morphine was high grade. He almost overdosed on that."

"You removed him?" Sherlock asked.

"I think he got off easy personally." Mycroft said. "I just got to him before Moriarty started to tie up loose ends." He looked at his sister-in-law. "I am not sure he was the man who attacked Marion or just made to look like it, a scapegoat for Moriarty to get to you once again. Anyway. He is gone. One more murderer who will not harm anyone." He rose to his feet and leaned against the desk.

"He was right." Marion said.

"What?" Mycroft asked.

"Sherrin was right. It wasn't about the crimes it was about watching Sherlock follow the game." She looked at him. "Drowning me…He was just playing us." She laughed. "Quite brilliant actually." She turned.

Mycroft looked at her and touched her arm. "You talked to Sherrinford?"

"Well someone has to." She hissed at him. "He is charming and much more like you two than you will ever admit."

"He crossed the line. He killed." Mycroft said. "He is a hunter."

"Perhaps you all are." She said looking at him. "You just chose to hunt other things."

"He was found to be insane, Marion." Mycroft said.

"And…"

"And?"

"It is a bit of a thin line don't you think? You bury yourself in work with a high pressure job. Sherlock solves crimes to keep from going back to drugs."

"You know about his drug habit?"

She laughed and turned back to him. "There is very little I do not know, Mycroft. Our family is one giant open secret to each other."

"Touché, my dear." Mycroft leaned and kissed her cheek. "I should have known better than a woman who could help solve crimes and live with my brother would not be a goldfish at all." He chuckled.

Sherlock nodded. "Very well, thank you Mycroft." He turned his wife to him. "No if you excuse me, I have a lunch date with my spouse whom I have not seen for far too long."

Mycroft sat back. "You could have come before."

"Perhaps." Sherlock said and led his wife out the door and into the corridor. He saw her walking ahead of him in a daze. "Marion?"

"I…I am not sure what I feel. Is it bad I do not feel much of anything?"

"No. You closed yourself off from that pain." He sighed. "With luck Moriarty will remain in jail after tomorrow and we can get on with our lives." He smiled and kissed her hand. "Now tell me, Doctor Holmes, where is your bedroom?"

"Upstairs? Why?"

He wrapped an arm about her and then scooped the other under her knees lifting her in his arms. Her arm went about his shoulder as he held her close to him. "Because my wife, I am going to ravish you senseless in the home of my brother."

"You are doing it just to annoy him."

"Somewhat, but it is twofold. I annoy him and I get to be with you. Win/Win." He smiled.

She kissed him. "You are terrible."

"I have been told I am heartless." He said carrying her up the stairs, his face nuzzling hers.

"Oh, you aren't just that, Mr. Holmes."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

"I know what you are." She said. "I am the only one who does know." She smiled.

"Don't ever let on."

She laughed. "Why would I?"

He found her bedroom and walked in. "No idea." He said tossing her playfully onto the bed. "I have exactly sixteen hours before I need to be back at Baker Street and going to the trial. I intend to spend it here with you and Lizzy."

"Good."

"Since she is asleep, I will see to the mother first."

"See to me?" She asked sitting up.

"Indeed, paying you only lip service…" He bent and kissed her and she moaned softly.

ZzZ

Marion sat in Mycroft's office. "How in the world did the find him not guilty?"

"They had to have gotten to the jury. Somehow. We can't prove it, but he did." Mycroft said.

"So I must remain your prisoner." She said.

"Prisoner is such a strong word. You have freedoms, Marion."

"I am watched all day long and all night." She sighed. "I think there are less people watching for someone on suicide watch."

"Indeed." He said forward. "I promised my little brother I would keep you safe and I will. The reason you are here and not at a safe house is because I hate fieldwork and you are family." He looked at her as she rose to her feet. "I do care, Marion."

"I know, Mycroft. I am grateful."

He nodded. "He has disappeared. He attacked you twice before. The third time he may actually succeed in killing you and I will not allow that to happen."

She nodded and reached across and took his hand. "Thank you." She said.

"You are welcome." He said.

ZzZ

_He took kids Marion. SH_

Marion sat up from where she had been reading. She looked at her phone. Her husband was always fond of texting. Other than their liaison a week ago, it was the only communication she really had with him. She had had two calls and a series of texts. _What?_

_He took kids. Kidnapped them, poisoned them with mercury, used clues from Grimm's fairytales. He is dangerous. Quite genus actually. Painted the wrappers with mercury. The children die slowly from mercury poisoning. They were kidnapped from a school and held in a disused sweet factory. Elegant no? SH_

_Sherlock, are you all right? _

_I am not sure. The girl screamed. There is a camera in the flat. I think I will be arrested soon. SH_

_Oh? Shall I set Mycroft on bail now? _

_No. I need to find the game. I will contact you later. No matter what happens know that I love you. SH_

_I know. Sherlock. Please. Are you in danger? _

There was no reply.

ZzZ

May 29th 9:00pm

Lestrade walked into the interrogation room. Marion was seated with Jericho standing nearby. "What is it Greg?" She asked.

"Do you know where your husband is?" He asked her.

"Are you kidding? I have been rather behind on the news. I am under the protection of the British government remember." She nodded behind her to her bodyguard.

"Have you talked to him this evening?"

"Not even a text. What is it Greg?"

"He managed to escape arrest. He is a fugitive. It is going to go worse for him unless we can bring him in and sort it all out." Lestrade said.

"I wish I could help you." She said sincerely.

Donovan stepped in. "Where the hell is he?"

"If I knew, don't you think I would tell you? I am a little sickened to hear he is on the run."

"I think you are lying."

"Donovan, I have only seen him once in a month since I went into protective custody." She said.

"But surely he texts and emails you." Donovan said.

Marion smiled. "This is Sherlock Holmes. In his own little world. He could care less about humanity."

"You married him." Donovan said.

"I knew what I was getting into. I actually like having him away sometimes. Gives me time to think." She looked at Greg Lestrade. "What did you charge him with?"

"Abduction and attempted murder." Lestrade said. "And we just cautioned him on suspicion of."

"Do you really think a man who was a father now would kidnap children and try to kill them?" She sat forward. "Moriarty has you so firmly in his fingers, dance puppets, dance." She said. "It is all a game. Can't you see it?"

"So you aren't going to help us, help him?" Donovan asked.

"If I could, I would." Marion stood. "Good day."

She walked out with Jericho behind her. Donovan looked back at Lestrade. "Do we follow her?"

"You can try. I guarantee you that she will warn Sherlock. I don't think she is lying, but she will go try to find him now." Lestrade said.

"What do you mean?"

"She is going to give that man the slip and be on the streets. Her husband has the greatest network in the city. All she has to do is pay someone and get in." Lestrade said. "We won't be able to follow her."

Donovan sighed. "So now what?"

"We wait…" Lestrade said.

ZzZ

May 30th 10:30am

Marion stepped outside the building and took a breath. She lifted her phone and texted. _Sherlock. What the hell happened? Lestrade is looking for you. _

_One by three, follow me. I am happy you know. I play well at hospital. On to we the run. Please I need come. SH_

She blinked and then closed her eyes. _I know. I at hospital. On the run. Please come. _

_All right. _She texted.

ZzZ

Marion was in the car. She blinked and looked. "Oh I need to get a new pair of sunglasses. Do you mind?"

"No." Jericho said.

"Thank you."

The car pulled over and she moved to look at sunglasses. Jericho was standing nearby. She smiled trying some on as she ducked down to look in a mirror. While down she dropped her coat and pulled on a new one, found a headscarf, and then moved away before anyone saw her.

After a few moments Jericho blinked and looked about. He walked to where she had been standing and lifted her coat. His eyes widened in horror as he lifted his radio calling for help. Meanwhile, Marion got into a taxi a half a block away looking nothing like she had before.

"St. Bart's" She said.

"Right away miss."

ZzZ

11:30am

Marion arrived and walked in. She walked up the stairs looking for him. The lights of the labs were out. She blinked and then walked about. Finally she remembered Molly. The quite woman who would do anything for Sherlock.

She raced to the morgue. The lights were on and Sherlock was there, seated on the floor playing with a rubber ball as he bounced it against part of an exam table before him. She removed her sunglasses and pulled off her headscarf. She looked at her husband who looked so forlorn there.

"Sherlock." She whispered.

He looked up. "You came." He said.

"Of course."

"Lestrade didn't convince you I am a kidnapper and murderer then?"

"We already have one of those in the family and you have well learned your lesson there I think." She walked to him. She dropped beside him. "Why is this happening?"

"Moriarty wants to destroy me. Everything. Piece by piece to discredit my name."

"And the endgame?"

"One or both of us dies."

She dropped beside him. "You can't let him win. If for nothing else…for Lizzy." She said looking at him.

He looked at her and smiled. "You do not think I would do it. You and John."

"Sherlock." She sat beside him. "I am your wife, your lover, and one of your best friends. I know you better than anyone. I know this." She pressed a hand to his heart as she snuggled against him.

"I think I may have to die." He whispered.

"What?"

"He wants me to die in disgrace." He said.

"Sherlock know I love you. What can I do?" She asked.

"Go to my homeless network. Get them to contact Mycroft. He knows what to do." Sherlock said.

She nodded and rose to her feet. He reached up and caught her hand. She looked down at him. "I love you Marion. Know that. No matter what happens." He said, his eyes almost desperate.

"I know." She smiled. She lifted her phone. _Lazarus is set. Sis_

She walked to the door. Molly was there and she opened it. Marion touched her arm. "Take care of him, Molly." She whispered.

"I will." Molly said. She smiled. "You have my word." Molly looked at Marion. The woman was shorter and beautiful with her red hair. Sherlock's chosen mate and the wannabe. She would do anything for him and Marion knew it. The women had once been jealous of each other, but after tea on several occasions they had come to an understanding. Marion learned Molly was not a threat to her marriage and Molly learned that Marion really was good for Sherlock not a fan who had somehow drugged and seduced him into getting her pregnant. They had become close after that and Marion knew her husband was in good hands with the other woman with him. Molly took her hand softly and squeezed it. Though she would always be jealous of Marion's marriage, she liked both Holmes'.

"Thank you." Marion said. She squeezed Molly's hand. She looked back at her husband as he tossed the ball again. "Sherlock." He looked up, green eyes meeting hers. "Remember Lazarus." He nodded, almost without moving his head and then turned back to his ball.

Marion smiled and nodded to Molly before leaving.

ZzZ

1pm

Marion walked to Baker Street and found Mycroft standing with Jericho and Matthew waiting for her at the café next door. "Well, well. How are you?" Mycroft asked.

"Where is Lizzy?"

"In the care of one of my underlings. She is sleeping." Mycroft said. He looked at her. "How is my brother?"

"Not well." She shook her head. "I have activated his network for you." She said.

"Good." Mycroft said. "Thank you." He stepped to her. "And that is where your part in this ends, my dear. I have some files on my desk. I need you to look them over."

She blinked. "You want me out of the way."

"I want you safe." He replied.

She nodded. "All right." She said. "Sorry Jericho." She smiled. "Do you have it?"

He nodded and lifted her jacket. Her overcoat had been a gift from her husband and she pulled it on. It looked like a darker female version of his own overcoat. She pulled the collar up and smiled at her brother-in-law.

"Mycroft." She said coming to him. "Please…keep him safe."

"I will." He promised and kissed her cheek. "Now go." He said firmly. "And don't run off again. I can only handle one problem like this at a time."

"When you need them…they have blocked off the square around Bart's." She said. "Look for one in a cap. He is the leader."

"Thank you."

She got into the car with Matthew driving and Jericho beside her. She sighed and saw back. What a long day this would be.

ZzZ

4pm

Marion sighed as she sat at Mycroft's desk. Mycroft needed her advice on bombs that had been set off in Tel Aviv. She was reading and taking notes. She had been at it for close to three hours. Lizzy was playing on the floor with her toys, babbling happily, when Matthew knocked and entered.

"Marion. We need you."

She rose to her feet and lifted Lizzy in her arms. "For what."

"To identify someone."

She swallowed hard and went to the door. "Mattie!" She called.

A young governess appeared and Marion handed her Lizzy. "I need to go. I shall return." She said.

Marion took a breath and followed Matthew out. They drove to St. Bart's. She was taken to the morgue. She took a deep breath and walked in. She walked to the body on the table and looked at the face. Gunshot wound to the head from the mouth. The eyes were wide open and blood was still drying. Marion studied the face and then looked upwards. It was Moriarty.

"We have laid this ghost, Marion." Mycroft said behind her.

She whirled to face him. "Where is Sherlock?" she asked.

"I will take you to him." He said.

He led her to a small office. Sherlock was sitting, in a shirt with blood on his head, face, and hands that he was in the process of wiping off. She gasped and ran to him. He grunted as she connected with his body. He looked at her as tears ran down her cheeks.

"I'm okay." He whispered. "I'm okay…" He whispered again holding her and pressing his lips to her hair. He then kissed her softly and cocked his head at her as he cupped her face in his hands. "We got him. It's over."

She nodded. "But you are dead now. Your name is dragged through the mud…"

"Yes. But you my dear widow are going to have to play your part." He said. "Can you manage?"

"Playing a grieving widow? Of course."

He nodded. He then gently took a hold of her face. "Do you trust me?"

"Ouch! Yes." She blinked as he dripped liquid into her eyes. "Oh my God that stings, what is it?"

"They activate your tear ducts my dear." Mycroft said. "You will be weeping for hours."

She felt the tears running down her face. "Good. Thank you. A little warning next time would be nice."

Sherlock smiled and kissed her deeply. "We will use more at the funeral and wake." He looked up at Mycroft. "Well you best be off."

"Yes." Mycroft said. "Say your goodbyes Marion. You won't be seeing him for a few days."

Sherlock cleaned off the rest of the blood and then turned to walk out. He smiled and held out his hand. Marion smiled and took his hand as they walked out together under the cover of darkness. He stopped and kissed her deeply. "See you on the other side." He said.

She nodded and then turned back and took a deep breath. She lifted her phone as she walked back to where Mycroft was standing. "Hello. John…where are you? I was just called. Where are you? I…I can't do this alone." She whispered her voice shaky.

She met Mycroft's gaze and he nodded.

ZzZ

The grave for Sherlock Holmes was under a tree in a secluded part of the cemetery. Marion had chosen the spot. At the gravesite funeral she had spoken soft words that no one there expected. She and Lizzy laid red roses on the casket over the white ones that others had. Lestrade, John, and several others were pallbearers and had walked before Marion laying the casket on the supports over its final resting spot.

Marion had visited for a week straight looking at the flowers, holding her baby with Mycroft, and her now ever present bodyguards standing back, allowing her, her time. The headstone was black marble with Sherlock Holmes in gold letters on it.

John and Mrs. Hudson came to visit nearly two weeks later. John had nearly fallen to pieces with the death of his best friend, but had remained strong for Marion. She had told him the night before she was going to travel. She could not stay in Baker Street for now. She would travel and do an assignment for Mycroft with her daughter in tow.

John stood and touched the stone. "One more thing, just one more thing for me. One more Miracle, Sherlock. Don't be…dead." He said. "Would you do that? Just for me? Just stop it. Stop this!" He took a breath. A deep breath. "Lizzy and Marion need you. I need you!" He swallowed hard. "Please." He took a deep breath. He was weeping before he composed himself.

John then stood straighter and walked to follow Mrs. Hudson away. Both were unaware they were being watched. Marion stood watching them, her overcoat loose about her shoulders as she watched the pair leave. She stood still before walking further along the tree line.

There, Sherlock Holmes stood, in his own overcoat, scarf, collar up, watching John retreat from the area after Mrs. Hudson. Marion looked up at her husband as he stood, hands in his pockets. He watched John and then his eyes flicked to his gravesite.

When John and Mrs. Hudson were in the taxi driving away he looked at his wife. "I am going away for a while."

"I know. Mycroft is sending you to disable the network."

"I am dead. What harm can it do?"

"I am going with you."

"Like hell." He said looking at her sharply.

"Admit it, Mr. Holmes. You need me." She said.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I suppose."

She smiled. "Well I am a widow now I could just find some young thing to keep me occupied until you returned."

"Oh, you wouldn't dare." He said.

"Then take me with you. A woman has distinct advantages." She smiled at him.

"Indeed." His eyebrow arched.

She smiled and turned to walk away. "Come on then. The plane is leaving this evening."

"What of Lizzy?"

"She will be with your parents. She is too young to really miss us for months on end. I plan to come home often to see her."

"Mycroft has you helping him also, isn't he?"

She turned and spread her hands. "Perhaps. Use those deductive skills of yours."

He chuckled and walked after her. He bent and took her hand in his. "Who knows, Doctor Holmes. This could be fun."

"Oh it will be." She smiled.

They walked to the car and he opened the door. She climbed in and he followed.


	18. Aftermath

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 18 – Aftermath

April 2013 - Rome

The woman walked forward. She heard something behind her. She could not see anyone and so kept walking. She sighed as she walked passed an alley. Someone grabbed her and pressed her to the wall.

"You really should be more careful my dear."

"Oh? And I think we both should be dead." She said lifting her chin.

He looked down and saw her wicked knife pressed very close to his ribcage. He stepped back a little. "Well played." He smiled his approval. He cocked his head at her then stepped back enough so she could see his curly dark hair and green eyes.

She smiled. "Hello, my love."

He bent and kissed her. "How is the dear count?"

"He has his suspicions, but I shall lull them." She said.

"You have a fine talent for lulling." He said.

"But, Scott, how far do I go?" She asked her husband. He smiled a little. Scott. A clever name and still one he grudgingly answered it. He thanked Mycroft for that one.

He pulled her to him looking down at her face as though he was memorizing it. He smiled a little. "Only as far as the bedroom door, my love. A woman on her back is at a disadvantage."

"That is what you think." She smiled playfully.

"No, I know." He smiled. He pressed a kiss to her. "Good night my love."

"Stay safe."

ZzZ

May 2013

A woman arched backwards, her hips moving as she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Two hands reached up from below her to hold her waist. She moved her head forward, her mid back length red hair poured over her shoulder like molten bronze as her dark eyes looked down.

The dark haired male took a deep breath as he looked up at her. His hands glided along her thighs to here a strap was attached. "You are armed in bed."

"So are you." She commented reaching passed him and lifting a glock from under his pillow.

He lifted the knife and looked at it. He ran his finger on it, cutting it a little. "Sharp." He said. "This really isn't a toy."

"You would be surprised to know how often that comes in handy." She said taking it from him.

"Still you are in bed with me. You are safe here."

"Still. I like to keep up with appearances." She smiled.

He laughed and his hand clasped her wrist. "Very well. Keep it."

She smiled and shook her head and threw it to the side, embedding it in a picture on the wall. He looked over and back. "Remind me, beloved to never upset you in anyway." He said. The knife was buried between the eyes of their current target.

Marion was serving as lovely arm candy while Scott as he was now professionally known since Sherlock was dead was gleaning information to take down the crime syndicate the count was running into Russia. Human trafficking, drugs, money, everything that a mob boss would be known for in Eastern Europe. Marion's body, even Scott had to admit was supple, but she had a sadistic side he had never seen before.

In an interrogation she had cut a man, hundred of times, like small paper cuts until the man was shrieking in pain. Once she had the information she wanted as Scott watched, she slit his throat. She had taken down several men three with well placed bombs. One of those men had been eating dinner with his family and the bomb had only cause minor burns to the wife. Marion as he, was a chameleon in the field. Scott realized that was the reason Mycroft had asked her to join him.

He then told her he wasn't surprised. There was something she was keeping from him, but he was surprised to know she was the sister of one of the most notorious bombers ever. The Gifted was a man everyone from the IRA to the Russian mob called. His little sister did the bookkeeping and set up the drops. As she grew older, he taught her to actually make bombs.

After their first take down together, he had asked about it. He wished to know. No common woman had her skill set that showed. The accountant for her bomber brother who taught her everything he knew. Also with her language skills she had been the communication. Scott had been startled by this revelation and Marion had explained she had never killed before her first. It had left her shaken, but she recovered well enough.

"So what is our move?"She asked shifting to the side and gathering the blanket about her as she watched her lover.

"We take down the count and then move onto Serbia. The last piece is there."

She nodded.

ZzZ

July 2013

Prague. Such a beautiful town. And yet full of nightmares.

Marion ducked as a man charged her. Scott was across the room taking on two other men. Marion sighed. She was rather confined wearing the dress she was wearing. She backed away and ripped the dress at her mid thigh.

The man slashed and she turned, but not quick enough. The knife cut into her back, but it was only a graze. Stung like hell, but would do no damage. She whirled back and kicked catching the man off guard. Her heel scrapped his face.

Grunting her dropped to a knee. She rushed in and disarmed him, breaking his wrist. He cried out in pain and she whirled bringing her Glock 26 out from beneath her dress. The man gazed up at her, startled.

Scott smiled as he looked at the two unconscious people before him. "Do you mind dear?"

"No." She said and whipped the pistol violently catching the man across the face and rendering him unconscious.

Scott looked about. "Well that is another group down. Now to set them up for the police." He said. "Show time, sweetheart."

She smiled and whipped out the phone she had, a pay as you go one. "Hello, police?" She said, tears coming to her eyes as she worked up a thick Russian accent to her Bohemian. "Help me. These men…." She whispered. "They are keeping me…I can't see where I am…" she looked about. "I can see a sign. CottoCrudo…" She whispered, her voice terrified sounding and younger than she really was.

She hung up and tossed the phone to the side. Scott looked up from where he had a man in a chair. "You really are quite charming like that."

"You think so?" she asked wiping her eye a little before moving to help him. "Damn I smeared my make-up." She said moving to clean it up.

"Yes." He smiled and kissed her before they got them into position with several bags of drugs on the counter, a nice line of cocaine on a mirror ready to snort, a girl whom had died of an overdose and had been brought to be a whore was with them. Small justice, but the once beautiful thing would be the voice for all those this cartel had taken. She was young, perhaps had dreams of being a dancer of a teacher and those dreams were shattered when her family sold her off to be a "maid". She was only fourteen, perhaps sixteen. Scott had found her in a hotel, dying. Unable to save her, her death would not be in vain.

Then together, they walked to the front door just as the police arrived. The Prague police came to them and pulled them to the side, thinking them tourists as they gasped in English as they were put before the line as the police charged in.

Scott smiled and took his wife's hand. "Well done." He smiled. "How do you feel about moving east, my love."

She tossed her hair. "I am up for the challenge."

"As always." He smiled and led the way.

ZzZ

August 2013

Marion stood in Belgrade looking out over the town from the hotel room she had on the fourth floor. It was located at the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers, where the Pannonian Plain met the Balkans. The White City they called it.

She had just returned from an evening in the vibrant nightlife of the town. She had reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. Everyone there placed her as a college student and she got free drinks from several men, all non-alcoholic to their chagrin. She claimed she was allergic and that had pacified them. She had showered and was in the middle of drying her hair as she stood in a dressing gown watching the traffic below.

She smiled. She had been back to England and had been summoned by her husband for his last take down. She sighed as she leaned against the back of the couch looking out.

The door opened and she smiled. "You are late." She said without turning.

"Am I?" Scott's voice asked. He removed his coat and scarf. He then walked to her as she turned to him. He looked at her and then smiled a little. "So when do you think we should tell them?"

"What?" She asked.

His hand went to her belly and pressed against the swell. "This." He said. "You can't tell me you haven't noticed…" He searched her face.

She sighed. "No I had. I am showing more."

"I can't have you risk your life with me. Not this time."

"Oh. With a toddler was okay, but now that I am pregnant again, I am out of bounds."

He sighed. "Yes." He dipped his head. "How is Lizzy?"

"Growing like a weed. I can't wait for you to see her." She smiled and lifted her phone. He cradled it and cocked his head at the video of her playing with a ball with her Nana and Papa at their home.

He smiled. "She is beautiful. Are you sure she is mine?"

"Yes. As is this one." She said. "I never went passed the bedroom door."

"That is not what I heard."

She rolled her eyes. "I killed two in their sleep. That isn't really making love to them is it?"

"True." He conceded.

"Now this case…"

"This will be a bad one. It is the last piece. Once this is ended Mycroft promises to resurrect me."

She sighed. "Lazarus indeed." She said. She stepped away and looked out at the skyline. "It is beautiful here."

"I prefer London." He said folding his arms as he looked out.

"Of course you do. You know everything about her. Here is different."

"Here you could lose your soul."

She turned to him as he stepped to her. "Perhaps, but don't lose your life. Do you hear me, Sherlock Holmes."

"I hear." He said. He smiled and dipped his head to kiss her. "God in heaven I have missed you." He whispered and pulled her toward the bedroom.

ZzZ

September 2013 – Paris

The view of the Eiffel Tower was breath taking as she stood looking out from her balcony window. This townhouse was lovely and in a prime spot. It had been loaned to her by Mycroft and she sighed looking back toward the bedroom where her nearly three year old slept.

Lizzy was a handful, intelligent and creative. She was likely the rival of all three of her uncles and her grandmother. No she slept after a day of playing at the carnival. Marion was now very visible with child being four months along. She was showing more than the last time. Soon she would have another little Holmes running around. God help the world.

She heard keys and the lock turning. She didn't move. It the person had keys to the townhouse they were one of Mycroft's men or Mycroft himself. All the same as the door opened and then closed again she turned and fired her Glock at the person, intentionally missing him by a hair's breadth. With the silencer on it, it made hardly any noise as the bullet buried itself in the door post.

To his credit, Mycroft Holmes did not even flinch. He just looked at her as he held a file. "Good evening to you as well sister." He then stepped forward and looked at her. "I didn't expect to see you. All of you." He said looking down at the swell. "So that is why Sherlock sent you home." He said.

"Yes." She said touching her belly.

He stepped to her. "Well I assume it is his."

She shook her head. "Of course it is." She sighed. "Can I get you anything dear brother?"

"Mineral water if you have it." He said coming and dropping into a chair.

She brought it and a glass and some clear soda for herself. She smiled as she sat down as well. "Forgive the welcome. With Lizzy here…"

"It's all right, really sis."

She smiled and sipped her drink as he poured his own and took a sip. "What brings you here?"

"My brother is in deep. I was worried for you, but with you safe, I just have him to worry about."

She sighed. "I am also worried. He has not texted in a few days."

"That can't be that unusual."

"With him these days? No, but I am pregnant and not always in my right mind." She said smiling.

"Indeed." He chuckled.

She leaned forward. "You must go to him Mycroft."

"Sweet sister, you know I don't do field work."

She shot him a look. "No one else can manage it. Your skills as a linguist aren't lacking."

"No, but not as good as yours I am afraid."

She hissed and rose to her feet, though it took her a moment to lever herself up. "I am sure you would do well."

He blinked and offered a hand. "I think you are bigger this time." He observed. "Twins perhaps."

"Don't you dare…" she muttered.

He rose to his feet and she caught his arm. "Mycroft. Please." She whispered. "Don't leave them fatherless." She said looking toward the room where little Lizzy slept.

Mycroft walked to the door that was cracked to her room and looked in. The little dark haired angel sleeping there made him close his eyes as he realized there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his niece or her mother. "All right. I will go. As much as I hate it." He turned back to Marion who came to him. "Know I am only doing this for you."

"And the terror alert." She said.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes and that as well." He sighed. "I need my brother to find the plot and stop it. Too many good men have died getting us the scraps of information I have."

She nodded. "Sherlock is good. He will help."

He sighed and shook his head. He reached and took her hand. He kissed her knuckles and then turned to go. "I will return with him soon, Marion. You have my word."

She stepped to him and hugged him. He stiffened, not used to the contact, but relaxed and patted her back as she held him. He felt her belly press to him and the baby move within her and sighed feeling a momentary sense of loss and regret at not having a family of his own. She pulled back and looked up at him. "Thank you." She whispered, eyes bright.

He smiled and lifted a hand to tuck a wayward piece of her hair back in a gentle gesture of affection; one Sherlock often did, and then bent to kiss her cheek. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for the three of you." He whispered and turned and took his leave.

She watched him shut the door behind him and turned to look back over the skyline again. She shook her head and finished her soda before moving to take a long bath. Mycroft would see him home safe.

ZzZ

September 30 2013 – London

Marion sighed as the taxi pulled up to Baker Street. She had lived here off and on while she had been away. She looked down at the sleeping toddler, whose head was in her rapidly disappearing lap. She smiled and gently shook the little girl.

"Lizzy darling. We are home."

"Nana?"

"No darling. Our house. Baker Street."

The girl lifted herself. She was tousled from sleep. Marion paid and climbed out of the cab. She took her daughter's hand. The driver removed their cases from the car.

"Thank you."

"Good day Miss." The man said.

Marion took the cases and her daughter's hand and walked to the door of 221 B Baker Street. In the heart of Westminster, the heart of London, Marion loved the location. She opened the door with her key and stepped inside.

Mrs. Hudson was washing something and looked up. "Marion!" She gasped. She pulled herself to her feet and embraced Marion. She then looked down. "Oh! When did this happen?"

"About twenty weeks ago." Marion smiled.

"Who is the father? Has he been good to you?"

"Of course." She smiled. "No I need to put Lizzy down for a nap."

"Use John's old room. He hasn't used it in forever. I will help you air things out." Mrs. Hudson said. "Thank you for continuing with the rent."

"I needed somewhere to go after I got sick of travel."

"Indeed."

Marion took her daughter up and then took her to the extra bedroom. The little girl was so tired she settled almost immediately and Marion was able to waddle down the stairs to see Mrs. Hudson who was putting the kettle on for her.

"It is good to have you back Marion."

"Thank you. It is good to be back. It was time."

"And the father? Should we be expecting him?"

"Yes. Soon I hope, but I have not had much contact with him."

"It is good you move on." Mrs. Hudson said.

"Indeed." Marion looked about. "Now tell me. Have you seen John?"

"He came over only a couple days ago. Strangest thing. I had not seen him since a month after the funeral for Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson's eyes flicked up. "Are you holding up after that?"

"Well enough." Marion said. "I hope to go see him soon."

Mrs. Hudson nodded.

The two had tea and exchanged pleasantries before Mrs. Hudson retired down the stairs. Marion remained in Sherlock's chair and then looked down at her phone. She lifted it and dialed the number she had.

"Hello?" The soft male voice on the other line said.

"Yes. John Watson."

"Yes. Who is this?"

"It has been a while. You must forgive me for not calling on you sooner…"

"Marion!"

"Yes." She smiled. "How are you John?"

"Well enough."

"I have come back to town. I need to stay here now. Lizzy is starting preschool soon. Mycroft is insisting on some high end girl's school. I have a research grant for the government…"

"We should meet for dinner. There is someone I want you to meet."

"Oh? Yes. Come over to my new flat…say seven tomorrow. Bring Lizzy. I would love to see her."

"All right." She said.

"Marion?"

"Yes."

"I am glad you are back."

She smiled. "Thank you. See you soon."

"Ta."

ZzZ

Marion took a breath. She looked over at her daughter who was sitting looking out excitedly. "Where we go, Momma?" She asked.

"To see Uncle John."

"Uncle John. Is he like Uncle Myc?"

"Yes. Like uncle Myc." Marion smiled. The little thing could not say Mycroft well as a toddler and so she was the only person on the planet that he did not mind calling him Myc. His mother often called him so, much to his chagrin, but the tiny dark haired darling of the family could get away with murder calling for Uncle Myc and blinking her large dark doe eyes at him.

They got out and Marion buzzed the doorbell to the flat. "Hello." It was a woman's voice.

"Oh! I am looking for John Watson."

"Are you Marion, then?"

"Yes."

"Splendid. Come up." The buzzer buzzed and Marion pushed open the door.

"Who that Momma?" the small girl beside her asked.

"Not sure. Maybe the surprise Uncle John has for us."

"You like him?"

"Uncle John? Of course. He delivered you, you know."

"What?"

"When you came out of my tummy. He was there."

"Oh!"

They walked up to the second story where the flat was. Marion knocked and the door opened to reveal John. He had a mustache on his lip, but smiled at the widow of his best friend. "Marion!" He said pulling her into a hug.

She smiled and hugged him and he gasped looking at her. "Goodness. When did this happen?" He asked touching her, as he had before. Marion did not mind the invasion of her private space. He was a doctor after all and he had been worried for her.

"I am about five months, John."

"Is there a father in the picture?"

"Sort of." Marion said. She sighed and then noticed the woman behind John. "Oh. Hi!"

"Hi, I'm Mary!" The petite blonde woman said. She stepped forward. Marion offered a hand, but Mary hugged her instead. "Any friend of John's is friend to me. Come in."

"Thank you." Marion said.

"Momma?" Lizzy said.

"Ah this is Lizzy."

Mary dropped down. "Oh look at you, you are like a doll with those beautiful curls." She smiled. "There is something for you, sweetheart if you go into the main room."

Lizzy looked at her mother who smiled. "Go on then." Marion smiled.

"Let me take your coat." John said as Marion stepped out of it and John walked into the flat. It was lovely and homey.

"What did Uncle John get you?" Marion asked.

"A-u-n-t Mary." The girl said reading the tag.

Marion smiled and looked back at Mary. "Yes, Aunt Mary."

"Goodness, Marion. She can read already?" John said.

"Some words. Mostly just letters so far."

"Impressive." Mary said.

ZzZ

Dinner was a pleasant affair and Lizzy was well out of her shell from Mary's coaxing. The woman was very gentle and caring and even read to the little girl after playing with her on the floor with the toys she had gotten her.

Marion had watched as John joined her at the kitchen. "Well?" He asked.

"Well?" She smiled.

"What do you think?"

"She is a good match." She smiled.

"You like her then?"

"Like her? I love her." Marion smiled. "You have done well."

John nodded. "I really want her to be in my life."

"Clearly she is." Marion said. "You are living together."

"That is not what I meant."

Marion chuckled. "I know. Yes. Marry her." She said softly.

"You approve?"

"Of course."

"You barely know her."

"I have seen all I need to. She adores you."

"No she adores, Lizzy. She tolerates me." John corrected.

"Oh stop it." Marion said.

John lifted her left hand. "You still have your wedding ring."

"It is hard to let go." She said coughing a little.

"Oh, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't." Marion said. "Just memories."

"Indeed." John said handing her a tissue.

Marion wiped her eyes and sighed. "I have been away too long." She smiled. "I missed you, John."

"Me too." He said hugging her and sighing. "You know. You were always the buffer."

"What?"

"Between me and Sherlock. You were the buffer. You were there, always, keeping a level head…"

"Yes."

Mary came and joined them. "Marion, are you well?"

"Yes." Marion said. "Just some dust." She said wiping her eye a little.

Mary smiled and nodded. "I am so happy I got to meet you."

"Me too."

"And Lizzy is such a love. I am going to love being with her, and the new one." Mary said nodding to Marion's belly.

Marion smiled. She was home.


	19. Return to London

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 19 – The Return to London

November 1 2013 – London

Sherlock stood on the top of his brother's building taking in the sights and sounds of his beloved city. He could see the Eye, could feel the breezes, could hear the sounds of the traffic. He was home. Finally he was home after nearly two years.

Home.

He walked down stairs and out the door. A motorcycle was there, running, the driver sat up straighter when he came out. Two gloved hands reached up and pulled off the helmet. She shook her to mid-back long red hair out. "Need a lift?" She asked smiling at him.

"Mari!" He gasped.

She smiled and lifted a spare helmet to him. "How are you, lover?" She asked.

He took the helmet."Okay, but I am driving." He said. "I need to get ready to see John."

She smiled. "Done." She stopped the engine and got off. Standing he could see her full belly. She then took his arm. "Just remember whose bike this is." She smiled as he looked at her from under the shield.

He chuckled and started the bike and she crawled onto the back. She wrapped her arms about him and held on as he started out on the road. He was a very good driver and she knew it. They stopped at all the traffic lights and back to Baker Street.

He pulled up and helped her off before climbing off. He handed her the keys and smiled. "Since when do you drive that?" He asked.

"I have my car still for Lizzy, but this is better to get around London." She smiled at him. She then took his hand.

He rolled his eyes. "You are pregnant." He said. "I am not sure I like the idea…"

"Lizzy is likely still down for her nap." She said changing the subject and he rolled his eyes.

They walked in and Sherlock took her by the arm and pressed her to the wall. He kissed her and smiled as he pulled back. "I love you." He said.

She smiled. "I know."

She went upstairs. Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat holding a frying pan. She saw Sherlock there and shrieked. Sherlock took too steps to her and clapped a hand on her mouth. "Hush, we don't want to frighten the block, Mrs. Hudson."

"But…you…you are…" She murmured against his hand.

He retracted it and smiled. "Of course I am alive. Killing me is so two years ago. Can you make us some tea then and then we will talk?" He turned before she could answer and went up the stairs.

His wife was sitting in John's chair. Sherlock dropped into his and grunted in pain. Marion looked at him. She levered herself up and went to him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, never better. Why?"

She shook her head and sat in his lap. "Because you are bruised. Did Mycroft let you be beaten?" She asked.

He blinked and shifted his hand to curve over her swollen belly. "He was in the room." He said. "He let them." He took a breath. "I have several bruised ribs, perhaps one broken, and bruising all over."

"You will have to let me rub my creams on them."

"It smells." He complained.

"But it works."

He sighed and nodded as he rolled his eyes. He then looked down. "Oh hello." He said. He pressed his hand to her abdomen. "Do you know what we are having this time?"

She shook her head and looked at him. "I haven't had time for a scan."

He scoffed. "Indeed."

Mrs. Hudson brought the tea and she smiled at them. She made a cup for Sherlock who took it and then one for Mrs. Holmes. She then retreated knowing they would likely want to be alone. Marion smiled and moved to the other chair dropping in as gracefully as she could.

"What are your plans?"

"Going to see John."

"Sherlock, dear, you have been away for two years. He has thought you dead. Are you sure you want to just show up?"

"Yes. What better time?"

She sighed and nodded. "All right." She shifted lifting a case. A violin case. Sherlock's eyes danced as she pulled out her own instrument and stood up and walked to the window and began to play. He was impressed. She had been working hard. He had heard her play a few times before and he smiled loving her that much more as he listened to her playing a lovely piece.

"Mommy?" A soft voice said at the door. Lizzy had crawled down the stairs backwards to get to the main level. She liked her bedroom because it was away from the adults and she could listen to her mother play the violin.

Sherlock's eyes dropped from his wife to the tiny dark haired bombshell that stood wiping her eyes a little, still sleepy. "Lizzy." He whispered.

Marion turned and smiled at her daughter even though she did not stop playing. The little girl seemed to register the man in the room. Sherlock grunted as he rose to his feet and he walked to her. Dropping to a knee he looked at her. "You've grown." He said.

"Who are you?" She asked looking at him with her dark bright eyes.

"I'm your Daddy." He said. "Pleased to meet you." He smiled holding out his hand.

"Mommy said you were away."

"I was. For a long time. Longer than I should have. Do you forgive me?" He asked. He noted Marion had stopped playing and knew she was watching them. He took a breath, his green eyes soft. He never imagined he would be a part of creating such a perfect creature in this world. He cocked his head at her. She was small, ethereal, but those high cheek bones and hair marked her as his. He was also surprised how articulate she was for a toddler.

She looked at him, her dark eyes watchful as she held a small bunny in her hand. He smiled. It was the bunny he had given her last time he had seen her. She looked up at her mother who was nervously biting her lip behind him. Marion nodded a little and the girl's eyes dropped to her father again. She then ran into his arms.

He grunted at the contact and was forced to sit on his knees as the girl hugged him. She had found some of his bruises, but he didn't mind. He wrapped his arms about her and hugged her firmly, careful not to squeeze her too tight. Then he rose to his feet kissing her neck and holding her as she snuggled against him.

"I love you daddy." She told him.

Four words. Four little words from this tiny creature broke him. Tears were in his eyes and he sighed heavily holding her still as he looked back at his wife who had her own tears in her eyes watching happily. She smiled through her tears and started to play a soft lullaby. Sherlock smiled and started to move, rocking a little on his feet before he started to move about the floor. Marion well knew he loved to dance and now he was with his own daughter.

Sherlock smiled as his daughter soon was limp against him and softly snoring again. He looked at his wife who came to him ending the song. He lifted his free arm and wrapped it around her. "I missed this." He said softly. He looked and kissed his wife and then his daughter's hair. "She is so beautiful. Are you sure she is mine?" He asked.

She smiled. "Of course. Who else could have fathered her?" Marion asked. Sherlock moved and shifted the sleeping girl and laid her on the couch. He pulled the blanket down and tucked it about her as the little angel slept on the pillow, shifting to be a little more comfortable. "You know she reads already…" Marion said as her husband bent and kissed the forehead of his daughter as he caressed her thick curls absently.

"Really?" He asked straightening to look at his wife.

"Yes. Basic books, but you should have her read you _Socks_." She smiled.

He nodded. He turned and walked back toward the bedroom. He well knew that Mycroft had sent his effects over and he stood looking at the bedroom. Little had changed. His wife had done nothing with it. He looked at his sleigh bed. A real bed to sleep in. That would be a treat later. He looked at his watch. It was getting to be close to the time he would need to leave.

Marion watched from the door as he moved about. He undressed hissing as bruises caught a little. She went to him and looked at the bruising on his body. "When you get home, you are taking a long bath in some salts to help these, Mr. Holmes."

"Yes, doctor." He said looking up, his eyes bright.

She helped him, noting how much bandaging he had on him. She helped him pull on a white shirt and then a black suit jacket. He rose to his feet kissing her softly. "I will be home soon. Want anything?"

"I can manage. Good luck, Mr. Holmes."

"I love you." He said.

"I know." She smiled and lifted his coat as he pulled on his scarf. He smiled at her and stepped into it. She had even pulled the collar up for him. She caught his arm. "I love you too. Stay safe. Call if you need me."

"I will text you if I do." He smiled and kissed her one last time, his hands cupping her face. He then released her and went down the stairs to call a taxi. She smiled a little as she turned back to the main room.

ZzZ

It was some three hours later when Marion looked down at her phone in her lap. _Marion. I need you to come get me. SH_

_Where are you?_

_Kebab place on West Hillshire. I am a little bloody. I do not want any questions on the Tube or a cab. SH_

She smiled and rose to her feet. "Mrs. Hudson?" She called.

ZzZ

"I don't understand."He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and holds a paper napkin underneath with the other. "I said I'm sorry. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" He asked closing his eyes. Mary stood beside him, while John stood a few yards up the road hailing a taxi.

Mary looked up at him. "Gosh. You don't know anything about human nature, do you?"

Sherlock lowered his head to look at her. He let the napkin down a bit. "Mmm, nature? No. Human? ... No."

Mary smiled. "I'll talk him round."

"You will?" Sherlock eyed her curiously.

She smiled confidently. "Oh yeah."

Sherlock eyed her a moment, as words about her floated about her. Deductions he could tell.

_Guardian Bakes Own Bread Disillusioned Cat Lover Romantic Appendix Scar Lib Dem Secret Tattoo Size 12 Liar only child linguist Clever part time nurse Shortsighted _

She smiled at him and then looked back at John a moment.

John opened the taxi door and looked back at her. "Mary."

She turned to giving Sherlock a last smile, then walked over to John. They get into the taxi and drive away.

Sherlock watched them go. Sherlock looked down thoughtfully as he wiped blood from his nose.

A car pulled up beside him. The window rolled down and Marion looked up at him from her side of the car. "Need a lift?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes thank you." He said. He opened the door and got in. He sat down heavily and looked at her.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"It did not go as I expected it to." He said.

"You were dead to him for two years nearly. Were you expecting him to be happy?"

"I don't know." He said.

She drove him home. She had seen her daughter to bed and then had Mrs. Hudson watching her in case she woke up when she went to get Sherlock. Marion then marched her husband up and to the bathroom. She stood as he stripped and wincing as he did so. She pulled his bandages off him. She then leaned to turn on the water. She made it nice and warm as she added some Epsom salts and peppermint. She nodded to him to step in, which he did.

She watched him relax and turned to get some clothes. "You didn't break your nose." She said. "Thankfully."

"John did that." He said as he felt her washing the blood from him. He opened an eye. "Actually I could get used to this, being looked after."

"You must have taken a knock to the head." She smiled as she rumpled his dark hair.

He smiled and lifted a hand to her face and kissed her softly. "I missed you." He said. "When I was in Serbia."

"Never do that again, Sherlock. The worry…"

He nodded. "I promise." He sighed as she looked down and his bruised body.

"Stay here, I will put the balm on after you have had a good soak."

"Yes, doctor." He said.

She splashed him playfully and he gasped in surprised before reaching up and grabbing her hand and pulling her down for one more kiss. He pulled back his hand still in her hair. "Care to join me?"

She laughed. "Another time, husband." She said.

He pouted a little and she smiled and left him. She walked to the living room and lifted her violin from its case and began to play. The black with a green polish shimmered in the light. She looked out the window and began to play softly as she closed her eyes.

In the bathtub Sherlock cocked his head listening. His wife was as skilled as he was and her violin made him relax more as he listened letting the water soak into his hurts. After sometime he rose to his feet. Dripping he toweled himself off and then drained the tub as he looked at himself in the mirror before going to the bedroom.

He dressed in a t-shirt and loose sleep pants before pulling on a dressing robe. He sighed and walked barefoot back into the common room finding his wife still playing. She was playing a soft mournful lullaby knowing it would keep their daughter asleep upstairs. Evidently, Marion had put her to bed some time ago.

Sherlock stepped behind his wife and embraced her, pressing his face to her shoulder his hands finding her belly. Marion smiled and brought the song to a close as she opened her eyes. She shifted and looked back at him. "Hello, husband." She said.

"Hi." He smiled looking down at her.

She set her violin down gently, back in its case, and then reached out a hand to him. She led him to the kitchen where she had a tea tray. She took it and carried it to the bedroom with him following curiously behind her.

He sat down on the bed and looked at her. "Where are the worst ones?" she asked him lifting a small container.

He grimaced even as she lifted a tea cup into his hands. The warmth and soft smell of chamomile instantly soothed him some. He sighed and lifted his t-shirt revealing the dark bruises on his side and belly.

She nodded and bent to smear some of the herbed balm on the bruises. His breath caught a little at the sensation. She clicked her tongue at him. "Stop it you big baby. It will help."

He frowned and sipped more of the tea as she continued. "It is good I love you…that stings."

She looked and pressed a bruise and he gasped looking at her wide eyes. "You were saying…"

"Nothing." He said looking at her piteously.

She smiled and finished as she pulled the shirt back into place. She leaned up and kissed his lip softly. There was little bruising on his lip under his nose, but she did not place any of the balm there. She put the lid on and then walked to the washroom to wash her hand.

She returned to find him sitting, finishing his tea. She climbed onto the bed with him and smiled as he set the cup to the side. She laid down and sighed. He joined her, his body behind her back, his hand coming and resting on her hip absently.

He pressed his lips to her hair. "What would I do without you?"

"Find someone else." She said.

"Maybe, but between you and John I would be down to Lestrade and that would be awkward."

She chuckled and he smiled. "Go to sleep, you, you need it."

"As do you, for the baby."

She nodded and closed her eyes. He watched her a moment, reflecting on having her in his arms again, in his bed, and how comfortable his bed was, before he drifted to sleep as well.

ZzZ

Evening - November 2nd 2013

Sherlock stood looking in the mirror. "We have work to do." He said looking at his wife.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I need to go round up the crew." He smiled at her. "Molly and Lestrade…"

She smiled. "All right."

They went to Barts. Marion had followed Sherlock out to catch a taxi. Lizzy was contently playing with some of Mrs. Hudson's dishes. Mrs. Hudson as always loved watching the little girl.

Marion went to the lab and found Molly just finishing.

"Molly!"

"Marion!" Molly said coming to her after she removed her lab coat and face shield. They embraced and Molly looked down at her friend. "Look at you. Does Sherlock know?" She asked.

"Of course." Marion smiled. "He was a little startled though."

Molly smiled and touched her stomach. "Oh…it kicked." She grinned happily. Though she knew she never would have a chance with Sherlock, a man she had a crush on and adored, she loved being an auntie. She also was one of only three people on the planet Sherlock completely trusted. The other was standing beside her smiling as Molly touched her expanded belly that housed Sherlock's child. "How is Lizzy?"

"Good. Bright as ever."

"Naturally. Between you and Sherlock…" Molly smiled. "I need to get my things. Then fancy some tea? I heard Sherlock was still running around. Have you heard from him?" She asked leading the way to the locker room.

Marion walked with her and smiled as she hung back and Molly opened her locker door. "I was thinking some chips or…" She gasped seeing Sherlock in her mirror. She whirled to look at him and then Marion who was smiling at them.

Molly smiled as Sherlock came to her and cocked his head at her. "How are you Molly?"

"Good." Molly said. She stepped to him and hugged him. He allowed it and then Molly jumped back looking with wide eyes at Marion who was smiling at them. "Oh, sorry…I didn't…"

Marion stepped forward. "No. It is fine." She smiled. "Come on. Let's get some food. I am starving."

"Well you are eating for two." Sherlock chuckled.

Molly took Marion's arm as Sherlock walked behind them as they chattered to themselves. He hailed a taxi and the girls climbed in and he followed shaking his head. Marion was seated across from Molly allowing Molly to sit beside her husband.

"Tanner pub." Sherlock told the driver.

"You look good." Molly said looking at Sherlock. "A little thin…"

"I will soon have him right." Marion said.

"I have no doubt." Molly smiled. She looked at Marion. "Boy or girl this time?"

"She won't tell me. "Sherlock said.

Marion lifted her hands. "I don't know."

"She won't let me look at the scans either." Sherlock said.

Marion smiled. "I want it to be a surprise."

Molly chuckled. "I think it is a boy."

"Oh? Why?" Sherlock asked his eyes dropping to his wife's abdomen.

"Just a feeling."

Sherlock looked at her quizzically. "Well it is a fifty percent shot."

"Unless it is twins." Molly smiled.

"Oh that is a thought…" Marion mused.

Sherlock's eyes widened. "Don't even joke about that."

"There is only one heartbeat." Marion said reassuringly.

Sherlock look relieved.

The women laughed.

ZzZ

The three had a delightful meal of fish and chips. Marion drank a soda while her husband drank a beer with Molly. The pair saw then their friend back to her car before they drove home. Marion relieved Mrs. Hudson of Lizzy. Mrs. Hudson had a date with a friend.

Marion walked out to the taxi and Lizzy got in looking at her father. Sherlock looked up from his smart phone and smiled at her.

"New Scotland Yard, please." Marion told the driver.

Lizzy leaned against her father and looked up at him. He set his phone down and paid attention to her. "Hello, little duck." He said smiling at her.

"Little duck?" Marion asked.

He smiled. "Whenever she wants me to give her a kiss she makes a duck face." He looked down and smiled. "See that." He pointed to his daughter who was making the face at him before she burst into giggles.

He leaned down and blew against her neck playfully causing her to shriek in delight. He chuckled and let her crawl onto his lap and he wrapped his over coat around her. She laid down, listening to his heartbeat and looking outside as the city and traffic went by. She was sucking her small thumb. He watched her a moment feeling oddly at peace with the small creature he had helped create there totally at peace herself.

They arrived at New Scotland Yard and Sherlock paid the taxi driver as they all got out. Lizzy clung to his leg as she stood looking at the building.

"Where daddy?" she asked.

"At the police." He said looking down at the large bright eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you need to do something for me." He said. He dropped down to her level and adjusted her coat for her. "I need you to go see Uncle Geoff for me."

"Who?" The little girl asked.

"Uncle Greg, Lizzy." Marion said standing nearby.

"Oh!" Her face lit up. "I like Uncle Greg. He has treats."

Sherlock chuckled and rose. "You go with your Mummy."

She nodded no excited to get a treat. "Uncle Greg is a policeman mommy!"

"Yes, I know…" Marion said as the little thing pulled her along excitedly. Sherlock watched them go shaking his head a little.

Marion walked into New Scotland Yard with Lizzy holding her hand. She passed many people and then smiled as she saw the man she was looking for. She walked to the office she knew well and knocked on the door.

"Yeah what is it?" A rather abrasive voice asked.

Marion opened the door and looked in. "Bad time, Greg?"

"Oh, Marion!" His face softened. Then he saw the little girl. "Lizzy!"

She giggled and moved and climbed into his lap has he pushed back from the desk he was sitting behind. "Uncle Greg!"

He smiled hugging her and offering her a sweet as she sat in his lap looking about at everything in his office. He shifted some files and got her a piece of paper and a pencil. She started to draw and he looked up at Marion who stood there watching. Without his own daughter around, Greg had become one of the two male influences in Lizzy's life before Sherlock returned. He was a lot more fun, bringing her treats and small toys. He had even brought her a cake for her second birthday with balloons. Marion was happy to allow him time with her daughter just as she was happy to allow Mycroft with her.

"What brings you two here?" He asked looking down at the drawing. The little girl was drawing stick figures.

"You look like you could use a break." She smiled.

"Yeah." He rose to his feet shifting the girl to his hip. "How are you feeling?" He nodded to her belly. He had always been concerned for her and when they had gone to lunch or he had checked in on her he had looked after her welfare. She had been grateful for his caring nature. She still could not believe his wife had left him because of work. If she had been of a similar mindset Sherlock and her would have been a nonstarter.

"All right." She said. She touched her belly. "Very active tonight."

He smiled and looked at her, lifting his hand and then cocking his head. She was actually grateful at the silent asking of her permission, but he was allowed. She pressed his free hand to her and he smiled. "Oh, wow. Active little mate, eh?" He looked at Lizzy. "Are you excited to be a big sister?"

"Yes. I want to play dolls."

He nodded, smiling, and led the way downstairs and out into the car park. He sighed as he set down the little girl. "I don't have a patch…do you care if I smoke?" He asked.

Marion smiled. "Just this once."

He nodded a little as the little girl stood looking in the darkness. Marion watched her husband walking into the shadows. Greg continued rummaging in various pockets. Something metallic clinks noisily a little way away. Greg looked around but can see nothing and resumed his search until he finally found what he was looking for.

Marion smiled at him. "Tell me how have you been? You seem stressed."

He sighed. "Yes, a bit…"

He tipped a cigarette out of the pack, he stuck it into his mouth, put the rest of the pack back into his pocket. He then flicked his lighter and raised it towards the end of the cigarette as he held it in his mouth. Marion lifted a hand to cup the flame in the breeze that was making it dance.

A voice, Sherlock spoke in the darkness. "Those things'll kill you." He said.

Greg froze, the flame not quite reaching the end of his cigarette as he stared into the distance while his brain catches up with what and who he just heard.

Finally he lowered his lighter and looked at Marion then back where the voice had come from. "Ooh, you bastard!"

"Creative." Marion said.

Sherlock materialized out of the darkness." It's time to come back. You've been letting things slide, Graham." He said, hands behind him.

"Greg!" Marion and Lestrade said together.

"Greg." Sherlock said. "Thank you for looking after my family while I have been aw…"

Greg stared at him for a long moment, his lips slowly lifted to reveal his teeth. Grimacing, he lunged towards Sherlock. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Sherlock groaned as his words were cut off. He looked at his wife who was smiling at them playfully. He rolled his eyes, but tolerated the affection.

Greg let him go just as Lizzy ran to her father. Sherlock picked her up. She leaned and hugged Greg and gave him a sloppy kiss before going back to her father who blinked as she shifted his coat and pulled it over her. Apparently she had liked being with her father and felt very safe and secure there. Sherlock sighed and shook his head as the small group walked together with Sherlock speaking to Greg and Lizzy falling asleep in her father's arms as Marion walked behind them.

ZzZ

November 3th 2013

Sherlock looked at his spider web on the wall. Behind him, on the floor was Lizzy coloring and quietly humming. Marion came with some tea and looked at the wall.

"What have you got there?" She asked.

" London. It's like a great cesspool into which all kinds of criminals, agents and drifters are irresistibly drained." He was in a red dressing gown, but wearing a collared shirt and suit jacket unbuttoned as well as slacks.

She lifted a tea cup to him and he took it cocking his head at her. "Sometimes it's not a question of "Who?" it's a question of "Who Knows?"" He sipped his tea and looked down at her. He then pointed at a picture had. "If this man cancels his papers ... I need to know." He said.

"So your homeless network is back working for you."

"Of course. They are better than any of us." He said. "This is good tea."

"New brand." She shrugged looking. "Who else…?"

He pointed to a woman "If this woman leaves London without putting her dog into kennels, I need to know." He got a text and looked down. He nodded and put a pin in the wall with a string leading from the picture of the woman. "There are certain people, they are markers. If they start to move, I'll know something's up, like rats deserting a sinking ship."

Marion nodded. "I see." She sighed.

She sipped her own tea and dropped onto the couch as her husband stood looking. "Mycroft called. He is coming shortly."

"Is that why you have the tea ready?" He asked.

"Behave." She said. "He is coming to talk to you and to see Lizzy."

Sherlock looked back at his daughter. "He is almost human with her." He smiled as the little girl lifted her drawing of her daddy with Uncle Greg looking at something. "What is that, Lizzy?"

"Daddy helping the police. Uncle Greg says he helps you."

"True." He smiled and he looked down. "I know this scene. Where did you see this?" He asked lifting a picture of a crudely drawn person lying in the morgue. Eyes closed, face pale, remains of a wound to the head in red near the hairline…

"With Uncle Greg."

He blinked and showed his wife who looked at the picture in horror. Sherlock, however smiled. "She will be smarter than Uncle Mycroft yet." He chuckled. "She has eidetic memory." He said. "And she is only three." He grinned. "Well done, sweetheart."He said to his daughter who looked up at him and grinned.

"Sherlock…she drew a corpse?!" Marion said lifting the drawing.

"From memory." He said walking into the kitchen and getting a treat. "She must have seen it on his desk." He clicked his tongue at his daughter and she looked up and he tossed it. She caught it in her mouth and crunched it happily as she went back to her drawings.

Marion just stood, hands on hips watching them. Lizzy sat back and opened her mouth expectantly at him. Sherlock smiled at her and tossed another treat to his daughter who caught it easily and he smirked.

"She isn't a dog…."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I know that…"

"Oh?" She asked.

"Of course. Dogs can't catch like she can." He said playfully tossing another which his daughter again caught and crushed it in her mouth, smiling as she looked in triumph at her work on the floor. "Besides, she started it. She was tossing her cereal up into the air this morning and catching it. Clever little thing. She only missed about three of those. I just made it further away. Amazing hand eye coordination…"

Marion shook her head and moved to toss the paper she held, but Sherlock looked at her.

"Oh no! We are keeping that one." Her husband said moving to stick it on the refrigerator with a magnet. Marion looked at him and shook her head and Lizzy grinned in triumph.

ZzZ

The doorbell rang. Marion had insisted that it be fixed and she went to the stairway and waddled down as Sherlock moved to have his daughter clean up her drawings. Mrs. Hudson opened the door and Marion paused on the steps and smiled as she looked at Mycroft standing there.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and turned. "I'll make you some tea, Marion."

"Thank you." Marion said.

Mycroft came in and cocked his head at Marion. "Well, you seem to be doing well."

Marion chuckled. "Yes." She turned and walked back upstairs with Mycroft behind her.

Sherlock looked up as his daughter put the last picture away. Marion stepped to the side as Mycroft joined her on the landing. The tiny bombshell ran to her uncle and hugged his legs startling him. He looked down at her.

"Hello, Lizzy." He commented. He stepped more forward and then lifted a book he was holding of Grimm's Fairytales. "I brought you this." He said.

She took it in her small hands and touched it.

"Lizzy…manners." Marion said softly.

"Oh! Thank you uncle Myc!"

He smiled a little and then watched as she opened the cover to look. Sherlock stepped forward. "It is time for your nap, little miss." He said. "If you nap well maybe you can read this when you get up." He said taking the book from her. She squawked in protest and then pouted.

Mycroft shook his head and removed his coat, putting it on the back of the chair. Sherlock was in his dressing gown still, but fully dressed. He sat down becoming comfortable in his chair.

Marion took her hand and led her to her bedroom upstairs as Sherlock looked up. "I mean it, young lady. Nap!"

"Okay…" she said.

Marion saw her to bed and then returned down to the living room. She sat down on the couch and laid back, resting as her husband and his brother sat down in the chairs a table between them. They were playing something as they began to converse.

"All very interesting, Sherlock, but the terror alert has been raised to Critical."

Sherlock's eyes lifted and locked with his brother. "Boring. Your move."

"We have solid information. An attack is coming." He looked down to make his move.

"'Solid information.'" A secret terrorist organization's planning an attack "that's what secret terrorist organizations do, isn't it? It's their version of golf." Sherlock said. His hand deftly moved something.

Mycroft was suddenly serious. "An agent gave his life to tell us that."

"Oh, well, perhaps he shouldn't have done. He was obviously just trying to show off."

Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "None of these markers of yours is behaving in any way suspiciously?" He looked down and moved again. "Your move."

"No, Mycroft, but you have to trust me. I'll find the answer. It'll be in an odd phrase in an online blog, or an unexpected trip to the countryside, or a misplaced Lonely Hearts ad…" He glances down briefly and made a click with his tongue before his eyes lifted again. "Your move."

Mycroft glanced down. "I've given the Prime Minister my personal assurance you're on the case."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. " I am on the case. We're both on the case. Do you want Marion on the case too?" He asked gesturing toward his wife who appeared to be napping. "Look at us right now."

"I am on the case…" Marion said without opening her eyes. "By default…"

On the table between them a red light flashed and a buzzer buzzed. "Oh, bugger!" Mycroft hissed. He angrily dropped the small tweezers he was using in their game of Operation.

" Oopsie!" Sherlock taunted.

Mycroft set the piece back.

Sherlock looked down at which piece Mycroft had failed to remove successfully. "Can't handle a broken heart, how very telling."He looked smugly at his brother.

Mycroft looked up. "Don't be smart."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That takes me back." He then adapted a little boy's voice. "Don't be smart, Sherlock. I'm the smart one."

Mycroft glared at him. "I am the smart one." He said darkly.

Sherlock looked reflectively. "I used to think I was an idiot."

Mycroft cocked his head as he sat back. "Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on 'til we met other children."

"Oh, yes. That was a mistake."

"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?"

"Probably something about trying to make friends."

"Oh yes. Friends. Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now." He looked over at Marion. "And relationship."

Sherlock looked at him closely. "And you don't? Ever?"

Mycroft gave him a look. " If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish."

Sherlock put his palms together looking at his brother. "Yes, but I've been away for two years."

" So?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a" He looked up and smirked a little. " ... goldfish."

Mycroft looked at him appalled. "Change the subject now!" He stood up and went to the fireplace.

"Rest assured, Mycroft whatever this underground network of yours is up to, the secret will reside in something seemingly insignificant or bizarre."

Mrs. Hudson arrived with tea coming in with the soft cooing sound she made when she entered without knocking. Marion smiled and sat up. "Hello." She greeted.

"Speaking of which ..." Mycroft said.

Sherlock smiled.

Mrs. Hudson smiled. "I can't believe it. I just can't believe it! Him sitting in his chair again!" She looked up at the pair of them. "Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr. Holmes?"

"I can barely contain myself." Mycroft said sarcastically.

"Oh, he really can, you know." Sherlock said pointing at his brother.

Marion smirked into her tea cup.

"He's secretly pleased to see you underneath all that…" She made a face as she walked to the door.

"Sorry which of us?" Mycroft asked.

She paused. "Both of you." She then continued out.

" Let's play something different." Sherlock said placing his hands on the armrests.

"Why are we playing games?" Mycroft asked looking at him.

"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to Critical." Sherlock unlocked his legs over the table and set them down again in front of him before standing up. "I'm just passing the time. Let's do deductions." He went to the table and lifted a warm winter hat with bobbles on the end of the strings. " Client left this while I was out. What'd you reckon?" He asked tossing it to his brother.

Mycroft instinctively caught it. His eyes narrowed. "I'm busy."

"Oh, go on. It's been an age."

Mycroft lifted the hat. He sniffed it absently. "I always win."

"Which is why you can't resist."

"I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-travelled anxious sentimental unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis ..." He stopped and looked up at his younger brother's widening smile. "Damn." He tossed it back to his brother who caught it.

"Isolated, too, don't you think?"

"Why would he be isolated?"

""He?""

"Obviously."

" Why? Size of the hat?"

"Don't be silly. Some women have large heads too." Sherlock winced a little at this insult, but his brother continued. "No, he's recently had his hair cut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside."

Sherlock looked down at the hat and pouted a little. "Some women have short hair, too."

"Balance of probability." Mycroft said. He looked at his sister-in-law who was watching them highly amused.

"Not that you've ever spoken to a woman with short hair or, you know, a woman."

"Yes I have. She is right there…" Mycroft said.

"She doesn't count. She is family." Sherlock said.

Mycroft let that slide. "Stains show he's out of condition, and he's sentimental because the hat has been repaired three, four ..."

"Five times." He threw the hat back to Mycroft. "Very neatly. The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he's mawkishly attached to it, but it's more than that. One, perhaps two, patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five's excessive behavior. Obsessive compulsive."

"Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive compulsive would do that?" Mycroft tossed the hat back and looked at his brother who looked at him exasperatedly. "The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he's worn it abroad, in Peru."

"Peru?" Marion asked.

"This is a chullo, the classic headgear of the Andes. It's made of alpaca." Mycroft said taking a step forward.

Sherlock smirked. "No."

"No?"

"Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you're looking for. I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibers."

Mrs. Hudson returned with more hot water in the tea pot. "I'm sure there's a crying need for that."

Marion tried to cover her laugh with a cough into her tea cup.

Sherlock paused eyeing the women a moment before looking back at his brother. "You said he was anxious."

"The bobble on the left side has been badly chewed, which shows he's a man of a nervous disposition but ..."

"... but also a creature of habit because he hasn't chewed the bobble on the right."

"Precisely."

Sherlock sniffed the hat. "Brief sniff of the offending bobble tells us everything we need to know about the state of his breath." He turned away. "Brilliant."

"Elementary."

"But you've missed his isolation."

"I don't see it."

"Plain as day."

"Where?"

"There for all to see."

"Tell me."

Sherlock looked up and said in an almost childlike taunting voice. " Plain as the nose on your ..."

"Tell me."

Marion looked up at him. "Sherlock…"

Sherlock turned back. "Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?"

"Not at all. Maybe he just doesn't mind being different. He doesn't necessarily have to be isolated."

" Exactly."

Mycroft blinked a couple times. "I'm sorry?"

Sherlock looked up. "He's different so what? Why would he mind? You're quite right." He put the hat on and looked back at his brother pointedly. "Why would anyone mind?"

Mycroft stepped forward. "... I'm not lonely, Sherlock."

Sherlock stepped to him, looking at him intensely. "How would you know?" Sherlock took off the hat and moved away.

Mrs. Hudson came out of the kitchen and smiled at him.

"Yes. Back to work if you don't mind. Good morning." He looked down. "I can't imagine how you tolerate him." He said eyeing his sister-in-law. She smiled and lifted her hand. He kissed it lightly and then smiled. "I will call later." He walked to the door a little wide eyed at the conversation.

Sherlock winked at Mrs. Hudson who giggled a little as she walked back into the kitchen. Marion shook her head as Sherlock came back to her.

"Right. Back to work."

She smiled up at him. He looked down. "What?"

"Despite how much you play it, you really love playing your mind games with him."

He chuckled. "Only if I win, my love." He touched her cheek and then looked up at the wall.

"He is a good man. Why do you pick on him?"

"I never thought I would like a wife…and here I am with one." He smiled. "Perspective always helps."

"Is that your way of telling me I should look?"

"It is my way of giving him a dose of reality."

She shook her head. "Now where were we?""

"Way to change the subject…"

"It needs to happen." She lifted his phone. "You have been getting texts for an hour."

"Ahhh." He said lifting it to look.


	20. Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 20 – Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

November 4th 2013

Marion was sitting working on mending some of Sherlock's shirts. She had turned the worse ones to rags. He would normally just buy more. She knew some of the smaller holes she could repair. He had a funny way of his buttons would stretch.

Sherlock was standing looking out the window. She smiled at him as he stood in his suit jacket, watching the people and traffic outside.

"What is it?"

"Molly is here." He said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I texted her."

The door opened and there were light footfalls on the steps. Molly came into view. She stepped into the room and smiled at Marion.

"You wanted to see me?"

Sherlock turned to face her. "Yes." He walked toward her. "Molly?"

"Yes?"

"Would you ..." Sherlock stopped a second looking at his wife. He then continued. "Would you like to ..."

"... have dinner?" she asked softly.

Sherlock looked up and said at the same time. "... solve crimes?"

"Ooh." Molly said a little awkwardly. She looked at Marion. "I am sorry that just came out."

Marion smiled. "Well if you are with him for the day, feel free to go to dinner. I have to work late at the museum."

"You really don't mind." Molly asked.

"Why would I?" Marion asked levering herself to her feet. "He trusts you. I trust you. He wants someone who can keep up with him and I am a little too round…" She smiled looking down. She smiled. "Now if you excuse me…" She went to the door. "Sherlock. Lizzy will be up in a couple hours. There is some lunch for her ready." She smiled at Molly. "Thank you, Molly."

Molly was stunned and then took off her coat and sat down looking at Sherlock who was smiling at her. "Welcome to the fun, my dear."

ZzZ

Sherlock looked up realizing he was deep in thought as he spoke. "... monkey glands."He was looking at the wall, while Molly sat on a dining chair beside Sherlock's armchair. She bit back a smile as Sherlock turned toward the two clients in the room. A woman was sitting in what was John's chair and a man stood beside her. "But enough about Professor Presbury. Tell us more about your case, Mr. Harcourt."

Molly looked up as Sherlock moved closer. She spoke softly. "Are you sure about this?" She looked down and saw Lizzy who was drawing on the floor again oblivious of the adult action about her.

"Absolutely." Sherlock said.

"Should I be making notes?"

"If it makes you feel better."

"It's just that that's what John says he does, so if I'm being John ..."

Sherlock shook his head as he dropped into his chair. "You're not being John. You're being yourself."

Molly smiled a little at him.

The man standing then spoke. "Well, absolutely no one should have been able to empty that bank account other than myself and Helen."

Sherlock cocked his head looking at him. He rose to his feet, walking closer to look at him. "Why didn't you assume it was your wife?"

"Because I've always had total faith in her."

"Lizzy, sweetheart, what do you think of this man?" Sherlock asked.

She looked up. Her large eyes narrowed. "No good." She said and looked back.

"Why?" Her father pressed.

"He…He look funny…" She said, this time not looking up.

Sherlock smiled. "Amazing perceptive creatures, children."

"What? Someone took the money. You must find them, Mr. Holmes. To save my marriage…" He looked at his wife who was sitting stiffly.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, it's because you emptied it." He then pointed at the man. " Weight loss, hair dye, Botox; affair." He pulled out his wallet and whipped out a business card. He held it out to Mrs. Harcourt. " Lawyer. Next!" He barked.

The pair looked at each other and then started to argue as Sherlock herded them to the door and out. Once there, the woman slapped her husband hard and then walked down the stairs with her husband, begging for mercy and forgiveness, right behind.

Sherlock looked back at Molly. "Having fun yet?"

"Yes, daddy." Answered the little girl without looking up.

Molly had opened her mouth to speak and then clapped it shut looking at the girl in amusement.

ZzZ

Sherlock sat on a stool close to a woman who is sitting on the sofa. He is clasping her hands and patting them sympathetically while he talks softly to her. "And your pen pal's emails just stopped, did they?" He asked softly.

The woman nodded, whimpering as she cried. Molly looked across to her but then continued writing notes at the dining table. An older man sat beside the woman.

Sherlock spoke softly. "And you really thought he was the one, didn't you? The love of your life?" As the woman took off her glasses, she started to cry harder, Sherlock turned and looked at Molly for a moment, then stood and walked across to her. Keeping his back to the clients, he spoke quietly to her. "Stepfather posing as online boyfriend."

Molly looked up startled. "What?!"

"Breaks it off, breaks her heart. She swears off relationships, stays at home he still has her wage coming in." He turned back to the two on his couch. "Mr. Windibank, you have been a complete and utter ..." He broke off seeing his daughter coming into the room, rubbing her eyes and waking up. He moved and scooped her up in his arms before looking back. "You have been completely unfair to your daughter sir." He said. "I suggest you explain it to her…Now!"

The man looked at his daughter who looked up at him. "Well, I…"

Sherlock then went to the kitchen. "Want a biscuit, little duck?" He asked lifting a cookie to his daughter. He then carried her back and set her on John's chair, standing up as she ate the cookie, holding it in her small hands. He moved and lifted a hair tie. Holding it in his teeth, he brushed out her hair, and then he deftly French braided her hair to Molly's surprise. He then wrapped the tie around the end and smiled. "Off you go then." He said patting her rear gently and turning back as the man and young woman were speaking softly.

The young woman rose to her feet and nearly ran out. The man swallowed and followed looking back at Sherlock. "What would you done?" He nodded to Lizzy who was looking at her father's experiments on the counter, looking down into the microscope.

"Oooo. What is this daddy? It is pretty."

Sherlock smiled. "Bone marrow sample."

"You are going to let her just…" Molly looked over.

Sherlock shrugged, ignoring Molly and looking at the man at the door. "She is her own person and I won't let her date until forty, Next!"

ZzZ

Sherlock with Molly at his side pushed the doorbell to a flat. Instead of the bell ringing or buzzing, it played a recording of an Underground announcement of a male voice saying, "Mind the gap. Mind the gap."

Molly giggled quietly as a young man answers the door. Sherlock immediately held out the bobble hat towards him.

"Oh. Thanks for hanging on to it." The man inside side. He was young maybe twenty-five. He looked at Molly. "I'm Howard."

"Molly." She said taking his hand

"No problem." Sherlock said.

The man took his hat. "I'm Howard, by the way."

"Hello." Molly said cheerfully.

"So, what's this all about, Mr. Shilcott?" Sherlock asked.

They went into a room, which is mostly taken up by a train set with Tube trains running round it. On the wall was a photo of Howard, wearing his bobble hat, grinning happily and doing a thumbs-up to the camera while he stands in front of a train which doesn't seem to be in Britain. Molly looked at the other train memorabilia about the room. Sherlock stood, hands behind him, watching.

"My girlfriend's a big fan of yours." Howard said cheerfully to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked up surprised. "Girlfriend?!" Howard turned to give him a rather indignant look and Molly also cast him a look. "Sorry. Do go on." Sherlock said dipping his head a little a small apology.

"I like trains." The young man said brightly.

" Yyyes." Sherlock said looking about.

"I work on the Tube, on the District Line, and part of my job is to wipe the security footage after it's been cleared." Howard said as he sat down at his computer. "I was just whizzing through and, er, I found something a bit bizarre." He turned towards the computer again and pressed some keys. Sherlock threw Molly a silent, "Ooh!" before rolling his eyes. Molly smiled. Howard pulled up the relevant footage and the other two walked to either side of him to look at the screen, which showed the platform of a station. A stationary train and its doors wide open. There was only one man on the platform. He looked like a business man, every bit one. "Now, this was a week ago. The last train on the Friday night, Westminster station, and this man gets into the last car." Howard continued looking up at them.

""Car"?" Molly asked.

Howard sighed. "They're cars, not carriages. It's a legacy of the early American involvement in the Tube system." He said. "Not that many people know that…"

Molly looked at Sherlock who shrugged. "He said he liked trains." He said.

"Hmm!" Molly said smiling.

Howard continued. "And the next stop ..." He showed the footage, "... St James's Park station ... and ..." The doors opened and no one is on the train. Sherlock leaned forward becoming interested suddenly." I thought you'd like it." Howard said looking up at him. He played the footage again. "He gets into the last car at Westminster, the only passenger ..."He changed the footage. " ... and the car is empty at St James's Park station. Explain that, Mr. Holmes."

"Couldn't he have just jumped off?" Molly asked.

Sherlock shook his head.

"There's a safety mechanism that prevents the doors from opening in transit. But there's something else. The driver of that train hasn't been to work since. According to his flatmate, he's on holiday. Came into some money."

Sherlock looked at Molly. "Bought off?"

Molly looked at him curiously. "Hmm?"

Sherlock looked at her for a moment, then turned to Howard. Molly looked suddenly embarrassed. "So if the driver of the train was in on it, then the passenger did get off."

"There's nowhere he could go. It's a straight run on the District Line between the two stations. There's no side tunnels, no maintenance tunnel… nothing on any map. Nothing. The train never stops, and the man vanishes. Good, innit?!"

Sherlock closed his eyes. He remembered the face of the man. "I know that face." He retreated into his Mind Palace for a time, reviewing what he knew about the Tube. He then opened his eyes, finding himself on the landing. He frowned a little not remembering coming out of the flat. He then dismissed it. He concentrated a bit more.

Molly looked up the stairs and slowly walked up them towards Sherlock as he stood there with his eyes closed. After a moment, hearing her, his eyes opened. "The journey between those stations usually takes five minutes. That journey took ten minutes…ten minutes to get from Westminster to St James's Park." He looked down at Molly. "So I'm going to need maps… lots of maps, older maps, all the maps."

Molly smiled a little. "Right."

Sherlock walked passed her moving down the stairs. "Fancy some chips?"

"What?" Molly asked.

Sherlock smiled looking at her a moment before continuing. "I know a fantastic fish shop just off the Marylebone Road. The owner always gives me extra portions."

She followed him. "Did you get him off a murder charge?"

This time he did not stop. "No… I helped him put up some shelves."

She giggled a little and smiled. "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" He asked looking up from the bottom of the stairs.

"What was today about?"

"Saying thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything you did for me."

"It's okay. It was my pleasure." Molly said reaching the bottom of the stairs. She started for the door, but his voice brought her back to face him.

"No, I mean it." He said softly.

"I don't mean pleasure. I mean, I didn't mind. I wanted to." She stammered a little.

Sherlock stepped closer to her, his eyes and voice soft and intense." Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible. Marion is the only other person I trust so much, Molly. Remember that." He drew in a long breath and put his hands behind his back. "But you can't do this again, can you?"

She smiled and her voice choked a little "I had a lovely day. I'd love to… I just ... um ..."Her gaze dropped.

Sherlock smiled following her gaze. "Oh, congratulations, by the way." He chuckled. "Have you told Marion?"

"Of course." Molly looked at her diamond band. "He's not from work."

Sherlock smiled at that.

"We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He's nice. We ... he's got a dog ... we-we go to the pub on weekends and he ... I've met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family and I've no idea why I'm telling you this." She said looking down awkwardly.

"I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths." He said softly watching her.

"No?"

"No." Sherlock said softly. His eyes were intense as he watched her. ""Marriage is a beautiful thing. I hope you find it as inspiring and invigorating as I do." He stepped closer, flashing a beautiful smile, he leaned down and kissed her cheek softly. She closed her eyes and kept them closed as he turned and walked out the front door.

Molly sighed softly. "Maybe it's just my type." She said after his retreating form.

Outside it was starting to snow. Sherlock walked down the path, sighing a little, he pulled his coat around him. He turned to the right and walked off down the road. Molly followed down the path, pulling out her gloves as she put them on. She stopped at the pavement and watched Sherlock walk away. She then walked the other way around.

_Are you still working? SH _Marion looked down as her phone chimed. She cocked her head and smiled. She wasn't really able to see well and so she smiled looking outside at the snow.

_Not really. How was your day with Molly? Was she a good substitute? I know that I have been lacking in that department lately. My belly is too round. _

_Suburb, but she can't do it anymore. Her fiancé my object. Also you are beautiful. Stop thinking you are not. Fancy some chips? SH_

_Oh! That lovely restaurant on Marylebone Road? Dear lord, I am starving. _

_When was the last time you ate? SH_

_Five hours or so…_

_Naughty. Extra fish for you, my love. The protein will be good for you and the baby. SH_

_And the chips are just tasty. _

_LOL. I am only four blocks from the museum. I will meet you there. SH_

ZzZ

Marion only had to wait a few minutes. With the museum closed for the day she had set everything right for the weekend and then walked outside to wait, bundled against the snow. She was again trying to catch the snow on her tongue. Giving up, she sighed and waited. Her husband came around the corner and she stood holding her helmet under her arm and the extra in her hand. He smiled and took the helmet from her as he ducked for a kiss.

She then moved and sat down and started the engine as her husband climbed on behind her, his hands going about her body as he perched behind her allowing her to drive. She made her way through the traffic on the fastest routes, routes she had learned from him. Well, well, he mused. Someone had been paying attention in class.

He pressed his helmet to hers at a stoplight. "Did I tell you, I love you?" His hand rested on her thigh a moment as she balanced the bike. She really was a most excellent driver, even pregnant. Though he was still having issues with her driving so.

"I never tire of hearing it."

"I love you."

She smiled and drove to the restaurant, pulling up in front. Sherlock got off. Thankfully the shop was only five minutes from their home and both of them were starving. They walked in together, his hand on the small of her back.

"Sherlock!" The owner said looking up.

"Marty." Sherlock said taking his hand.

Marion smiled. "You really do know everyone."

"Ah, Mrs. Holmes. A pleasure also."

"Doctor." Sherlock and Marion said together out of reflex.

"Sorry?"Marty asked.

"Call me Mari." Marion said taking his hand.

He kissed her knuckles. "Come what is your pleasure this evening."

Marion smiled and put her hands together as she licked her lips in anticipation.

ZzZ

Marion and Sherlock arrived home with their piping hot food and retreated upstairs to eat. Mrs. Hudson was there and smiled. "I got Lizzy to sleep an hour ago."

"She sleeps like the dead." Sherlock said smiling as he held the bag of chips and started to eat. Marion was eating a piece of fish in delight.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and left the pair, though they were not even getting out any dishware, just eating out of the bag. The pair of young tenants never ceased to amaze her. The evolution of Sherlock in her mind to not understanding what he was exactly, to him helping her, to thinking him gay, bi-sexual, and now clearly he straight, though he was a straight ally. She had been convinced John and Sherlock were together, but then Marion had come pregnant into their lives. It had taken Mrs. Hudson a bit to realize that the girl wasn't lying. Sherlock really was the father.

A knock came at the door and Mrs. Hudson answered the door as Sherlock looked at his wife and then to the stairway listening.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson." A female voice said. "Sorry… I-I think someone's got John…John Watson."

Mrs. Hudson looked at her indignantly and followed her. "Hang on! Who are you?"

Mary stopped halfway up the first flight of stairs. "Oh, I'm his fiancée."

Mrs. Hudson then smiled. "Ah!"

Sherlock came to the landing and looked at Mary as she came up to join him. "Mary? What's wrong?"

"Mary?" Marion asked coming out. She blinked when she saw the woman there. "Hello." She offered her hand. "I'm Marion." There was something that crossed in her eyes. A flicker and then it was gone.

"Mary." The other woman looked at Sherlock who was holding a half eaten chip in his hand. Mary pulled out her phone. "Someone sent me this. At first I thought it was just a Bible thing, you know, spam, but it's not. It's a skip-code."

Sherlock looked at her closely a moment before reading the message.

_Save souls now! _

_John or James Watson?_

Sherlock looked at it. "First word, then every third. Save ... John ... Watson."

Mary pulled up the rest of the message.

_Saint or Sinner?_

_James or John?_

_The more is Less?_

Sherlock's mind made the useless words fade leaving - _Saint James The Less_

Sherlock gasped. "Now!" He dropped the chips to the floor and moved to the stairs, racing down them.

"Where are we going?" Mary asked.

"St James the Less. It's a church. Twenty minutes by car." He ran to the street. "Did you drive here?"

"Er, yes."

"It's too slow. It's too slow." He said pacing in the street.

He is oblivious of the oncoming car what narrowly misses him and blared the horn.

"Sherlock!" Marion said coming out, a little out of breath. He turned to her.

"Sherlock, what are we waiting for?" Mary asked desperately.

Marion tossed keys into the air. "Go!" She said nodding to her motorbike. "I will follow with the car!"

Sherlock caught the keys and looked at his wife and nodded. He mouthed a thank you and she smiled at him and nodded. "Come on!" He told Mary going to the bike and putting on the helmet and handing her one. Marion was already moving to her own car as she pulled out her phone to call Mrs. Hudson to inform her that there was danger and what was going on. She watched Sherlock and Mary race off toward the church.

ZzZ

Sherlock used his mind to calculate the route. Ten minutes on their current way. Mary looked at her phone. She looked at the message.

_Getting warmer Mr. Holmes_

_You have about ten minutes_

Sherlock looked at the message.

They drove on.

"What does it mean? What are they going to do to him?" Mary asked.

"I don't know." Sherlock said.

They drove for a while, weaving in traffic as Sherlock expertly drove. Another message came. Mary held it up for Sherlock who looked over.

_8 minutes_

_and counting..._

Sherlock turned his attention back to the road and accelerated, but shortly afterwards they approached a roadblock. The road ahead was cordoned off with police tape, and two police officers were explaining the situation to stopped cars.

"Damn!" Sherlock said as he slammed on the breaks. Looking to his left he closed his eyes a moment. The old route would have been eight minutes. The new one that he can use is five. He abruptly turned the bike and headed down some pavement.

The office watched startled. "Oi! You can't go down there!" He called as they retreated. They went down a long flight of stairs, standing up to keep from being jarred too much. Once at the bottom Sherlock went onto the road that is The Mall. They race toward the Palace.

Another message flashed and Mary showed Sherlock whose eyes flicked to it.

_Better hurry_

_things are_

_heating up here..._

They continued onwards but their speed was impeded as they cross a bridge and are blocked by a slow-moving lorry.

Sherlock managed to dodge around the lorry and move faster. The new message Mary showed him gave him pause.

_Stay of execution._

_You'__ve got two_

_more minutes_

Sherlock checked his mental map, which shows that if he continued by road, their ETA is three minutes. However, if he went in a straight line it will only take one minute. He swerved the bike and headed straight down into a pedestrian underpass. The motorcycle charged on through the underpass. Sherlock forced the bike up a steep flight of steps and out onto the street again. They were finally driving along beside the fence surrounding the park with the church behind.

Mary received another text.

_What a shame_

_Mr. Holmes._

_John is quite a Guy!_

She held the phone over Sherlock's shoulder to show him.

"What does it mean?" Mary asked.

Sherlock read and then his head whipped back to the park as a bonfire caught fire and onlookers cheered loudly. "Oh my God." He gasped. He accelerated looking for a break in the fence.

He found one, directing the bike to it. He hurled himself off and yelled to Mary."Jump off!"Sherlock moved people, none to gently out of the way. John can be heard crying for help. The onlookers look in concern hearing the cries. "Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!" He reached the bonfire and cried out. "John!"

Mary was right behind him. "John! Get out, John!"

Sherlock looked in the flames trying to see where John was. Mary continued to call his name. John heard them.

"Help!" He cried.

Sherlock had a location and reached his arms into the inferno. He pulled parks of the fire out of the way and then ducked grabbing John's arms. He pulled his friend clear of the bonfire even as people gasped in horror and watched.

A safe distance away, Sherlock laid John on his back and gently tapped his face with his hands as John looked up dazed.

"John? John!"

Mary was weeping and covered her mouth as she stood beside them. "John." She whimpered.

Sherlock smiled. "Hey, John." He said softly.

"Paramedics are on their way." A new female voice said. Mary looked up and saw Marion standing there, wearing her own long overcoat, watching them. "They will be here very soon. I called on my way over. She sighed. "Is he all right?"

"He will be." Sherlock said looking up at her.

Mary turned to Marion and hugged her as she started to sob in relief.

Below them John looked up at them, dazed as their faces faded in and out. He blinked trying to get his vision to work. He tried to move a hand to his head, but Sherlock intercepted it.

"Be easy. You are safe now." Sherlock told him. He smiled and looked at the two women. Mary was sobbing against Marion's shoulder. Marion looked at her husband and took a deep breath in relief. Her head lifted hearing the wail of a siren on the way. Sherlock sat back on his heels and sighed rubbing his hand over his face.

That had been too close…

ZzZ

November 5th 2013

After the adventurous evening and John being checked out, the Holmes' were able to retire for the night. Sherlock practically had to carry his wife to their bedroom she was so tired. She barely made it to the bed before falling asleep after he pulled her jacket from her and directed her down the hall. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow. He looked at her, fully dressed, sprawled on the bed. He had came to her and undressed and gently moved her. She protested softly in her sleep and he crawled in beside her, tenderly caressing her hair and then snuggling against her body. She was cool to the touch and he let his own body heat warm her.

The next morning, Marion's phone went off. It was still in her pocket. Sherlock felt it vibrating against his leg. Marion stirred even as her husband pushed the blanket away and searched her clothing. She looked at him startled as his warm hands felt about for it.

"Good morning." She said giving him a look.

He smiled as he found it and answered it. "Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh hello mother…" He said. "She is here. Yes, I will give her to you…" Sherlock handed the phone off as Marion rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"Hello, Mum." She said stifling a yawn. "No, I was asleep. Oh it isn't a problem. I needed to get up anyway." She said looking at the time.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He dipped his head pressing a kiss to her mouth and then her belly as he leaned over her, bracing his one hand on the other side of her. He then lifted to go to the washroom.

"When are you coming then?" Marion asked, loud enough for Sherlock to hear through the open door. He walked back and cast her a look. She rolled her eyes and then smiled. "Good see you then." She hung up and looked at her husband. "They will be here in two hours."

"Hummm I can take a bath."

"Mummy!" Lizzy called from the kitchen.

Marion got up and noticed she was still dressed as Sherlock closed the door. She rolled her eyes and then came in. "Hello, baby, what are you doing?"

"Mrs. Hudson made me pancakes." She smiled. She was sticky from her forehead to her small hands.

Marion laughed. "Well, we will need to shoo your father into a short bath so we can get you read for Nana and Papa coming."

The girl had a huge bite in her mouth, but grinned around it excitedly.

When she was done, Marion lifted her against her hip. The girl was still so small for her age, very bright, but small. She walked to the washroom. "You need to hurry or I will throw Lizzy in there with you."

"What?" Came the muffled voice. "Why?"

"She is covered in syrup."

Sherlock chuckled. She could hear water splashing and figured he was washing his hair. Moments later he opened the door in his dressing gown, hair straight from washing it. "All yours." He smiled at her and stole a kiss before retreating to the bedroom.

Marion shook her head playfully and walked into the bathroom. She needed a shower as well and so she stripped herself and her toddler and stepped into the shower. Lizzy giggled as she sat. She was going to be able to shower like a big person!

Marion washed her daughter and herself with baby shampoo. Lizzy giggled as she played under the water before Marion turned it off and stepped out. She then wrapped a towel around the little girl who was giggling and chattering about the water. Marion paid little mind as she smiled and rubbed her hair dry.

Marion then turned to drying herself as the door opened to reveal Sherlock, his hair drier and becoming curly once more as he stood in a light blue shirt with black slacks and a dark suit jacket. He looked amazingly handsome as he looked at the pair of them.

Lizzy giggled and ran between his legs tugging the large bath towel around her. Sherlock blinked and whirled as she moved like a shot. He shook his head and stepped firmly on the towel. It didn't stop her. She ran into the bedroom. She giggled the whole time.

He looked at his wife and rolled his eyes before moving to catch the tiny bombshell he had sired. He went to the door and frowned looking for her. He then saw her on the far side, using the bedside table to pull herself up. From there she landed on the bed as she jumped fearlessly to the pillows. He blinked. Well, well, his little duck was also a monkey and a genius monkey at that. He was pretty sure he would not have worked that out on the fly.

He smiled and plopped onto the bed looking up at her. She crawled to him and giggled. "Daddy!"

"Oh, hello, little duck." He smiled.

She giggled and tried to hide in the blankets. He moved too quickly for her and pulled her up and held her. He looked at her and grinned. "Got you!"

She giggled as he fastened a nappy on her with the ease of an experienced father. He then lifted her up and blew on her belly as Lizzy filled the house with her loud, high pitched screams of delight. Marion came into the room and moved about dressing as she watched Sherlock with his daughter. Lizzy. She was still so small, weighing only thirty pounds and she was the height of most two year olds, but she had time to grow and she clearly didn't have problems with her mental agility.

Sherlock moved to a small plastic set of drawers. Lizzy perched on his arm as he squatted down with her to pick out some clothing. There was a lovely purple set inside and the little girl pulled the set out and began to pull it over her head. Sherlock smiled, setting her down and helped her. Once she was dressed her then sent her on her way.

She scampered into the common room to find her coloring. Sherlock looked after her a moment before he turned to his wife. Marion was sitting on the bed and amused look on her face as she watched her daughter go.

"Hi." He said softly coming to her. She was crying her hair. Though not as long as it had been when they first met, it was lovely and his fingers itched to touch it even as she dried it looking off into space.

"Hi." She smiled up at him. She was wearing loose clothing that accommodated her expanding belly. He pressed a hand to her belly as he leaned down, gently kissing her. She smiled and looked up into his eyes. "Good morning Mr. Holmes."

"Hummm." He said smiling and pressed a final kiss to the edge of her mouth before turning to go to the common room.

ZzZ

It was only an hour later when there was a knock at the door below.

Marion levered herself up from the chair she was in as her husband gave her a look and rolled his eyes as he remained where he was looking down fondly at his daughter who was drawing something with a rainbow.

Marion smiled as she opened the door to her in-laws. "Elizabeth, George. Come in." She said.

"Hello, dear. You look beautiful as ever." George said kissing her cheek.

Marion laughed. "I am a house."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Hardly." She embraced Marion and then looked up. "Is Sherlock here?"

"Of course. Lizzy is doing art."

"Such a creative mind." Elizabeth the elder said smiling.

"Go on. He is expecting you. Marion said waving them on.

"What about you?"

"I am too fat to move fast. I will catch you up."

The pair nodded and walked upstairs and Marion smiled at the delighted cry from her daughter. Marion made it up the stairs and went to make tea. Sherlock's parents dropped onto the couch and Lizzy climbed into her grandfather's lap. He always had a sweet thing got her and she sat patiently waiting for it to appear.

Marion moved about the kitchen preparing tea for them. Marion listened with half an ear as she walked about. She smirked watching her husband's reaction. Sherlock found his family tedious to deal with while his wife loved them.

Sherlock sat in his armchair with his eyes closed, sighing quietly and occasionally drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair. Marion came in with the tea setting and she placed it on her chair side table looking at her husband. His eyes opened hearing her and he narrowed them at her.

"…which wasn't the way I'd put it at all. Silly woman. Anyway, it was then that I first noticed it was missing. I said, 'Have you checked down the back of the sofa'" Elizabeth was saying. Lizzy was sitting, her head on her grandfather's shoulder.

Sherlock screwed his face up at his wife who was watching him as she waited for the kettle to boil, then tilted his head forward a little, almost nodding off to sleep until his head jerked back up again. He steepled his fingers in front of his face as the Elizabeth looked round at her husband.

"He's always losing things down the back of the sofa, aren't you, dear?"

"'Fraid so." George said.

Sherlock glared toward his wife who met his gaze, smiling in amusement.

"Keys, small change, sweeties. Especially his glasses." Elizabeth continued.

"Glasses." George nodded.

"Blooming things. I said, 'Why don't you get a chain to wear 'em round your neck?' And he says, 'What and look like Larry Grayson?'

George smiled and said almost at the same moment. "Larry Grayson."

Sherlock rose quickly to his feet, buttoning his jacket as he walked toward his parents. Lizzy had migrated to her grandmother's lap and was lying there looking up at the ceiling. "So did you find it eventually, your lottery ticket?" Sherlock asked a little short.

Marion walked out with the tea and smiled as he stepped onto the coffee table and then onto the sofa between the pair. Elizabeth leaned to the side, getting out of his way, while the man stared up at him as Sherlock started idly flicking through the paperwork stuck to the wall. Marion shooed her daughter o her coloring and offered the pair some tea. They took it gratefully and smiled thank yous.

"Sherlock?" Marion asked since his back was turned.

He looked back at her a moment. "Hummm?"

"Tea?"

"Yes, but in a moment." He said.

She nodded.

Elizabeth took a sip of the tea and continued. "Well, yes, thank goodness. We caught the coach on time after all. We managed to see, er, St Paul's, the Tower ... but they weren't letting anyone in to Parliament."

Sherlock cocked his head and looked down at her frowning slightly.

"Some big debate going on." Elizabeth shrugged.

The common room door opened to reveal John standing there. Marion smiled. "John. Can I get you some tea?" She asked as Sherlock whipped about to look at him.

"John!"

"Sorry…you're busy." John said softly. His face still bore the marks from his ordeal, but Marion smiled handing him a cup of tea and he smiled at her. "Thanks Marion."

Sherlock stepped from the couch and pulled the woman to her feet. " Er, no-no-no, they were just leaving." He said.

"Oh, were we?" Elizabeth asked.

"They are?" Marion asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said.

John lifted a hand. "No, no, if you've got a case ..."

"No, not a case, no-no-no."Sherlock said. He then looked at his mother. "Go...Bye."

Marion smiled.

"Yeah, well, we're here 'til Saturday, remember." Elizabeth said. "Marion I want to have lunch soon."

"Of course!" She said.

"Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out." Sherlock said herding the pair out.

"Well, give us a ring." Elizabeth said.

"Very nice, yes, good. Get out." He got them out the door and onto the landing. He tried to close the door but his mother turns and stuck her heavy shoe into the doorway to stop the door from shutting. Sherlock pulled the door open a little, staring down at her foot in surprise and annoyance.

Elizabeth looked up at him and said softly. "I can't tell you how glad we are, Sherlock. All that time people thinking the worst of you." Sherlock looked behind him at John who was looking outside. We're just so pleased it's all over."

Grimacing Sherlock tried to slam the door shut, but his mother's shoe was still in the way.

"Ring up more often, won't you?" Georg said.

Sherlock nodded a little. "Mm-hmm."

Marion waved at her in-laws and lifted her hand to her ear like a phone mouthing she would call. Elizabeth nodded.

"She worries." George said

"Promise?" Elizabeth asked.

Again Sherlock glanced round towards John as if to ascertain that he can't hear him, then he leaned close to the woman. "Promise." He said softly.

Smiling she reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately, but he was done.

"Oh, for God..." Sherlock hissed. He shoved the door closed and let out a deep sigh. John looked at Lizzy's drawings.

"Those are good."

"Thank you." The girl said without looking up. She rubbed her eyes a little and yawned.

Marion smiled. "It is time for someone to have a nap."

"But I napped yesterday." Lizzy protested even as Marion ducked down and lifted her up and put her on her hip.

Sherlock smiled. He came and kissed Lizzy's brow. "Go to sleep." He said softly.

"Okay, daddy." She said.

Marion smiled and turned and walked up the stairs to the little girl's room.

"Sorry about that." Sherlock said

"No, it's fine. Clients?" John asked.

Sherlock shook his head. "... Just my parents."

"Your parents?"

"In town for a few days." Sherlock said.

"Your parents?"

" Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of _Cats_. Tried to talk me into doing it."

"Those were your parents?" John went to the window and looked out.

"Yes."

"Well ..." He chuckled a little. "That is not what I…" He looked back at his friend and then back out again.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"I-I mean they're just ... so ..." He looked back at Sherlock who was looking at him intently. " ...ordinary." He smiled even as Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"It's a cross I have to bear." Sherlock said.

"Oh yeah, like it is such a hardship. I am the one you both weasel into going for you." Marion said returning to the room.

Sherlock looked at her. "They like you. You give them grandchildren."

"Diverts the attention off you. One afternoon won't kill you."

"Oh?"

"No, it wouldn't Sherlock." Marion said.

John chuckled and then turned to face them.

"Did they know, too?"

Sherlock could not meet his gaze. "Hmm?" Marion became very interested in her tea set suddenly.

"That you spent the last two years playing hide and seek."

Sherlock lifted something from his suit jacket, fuzz perhaps. "Maybe."

John growled. "Ah! So that's why they weren't at the funeral."

Sherlock looked up and spread his hands. "Sorry. Sorry again."

" Mm." John took a breath and moved toward the door. Marion moved and laid a hand on his arm. He looked up and met his gaze. She didn't have to say a word he read the pain there. She hated not being able to tell him. He read it in her eyes.

"Sorry." Came soft word behind them.

John met Marion's sincere gaze and then patted her hand. He leaned and kissed her cheek, forgiving her for everything in that moment and forgiving Sherlock as well. They had had their reasons. He knew it, but it was no less painful. He then realized, reading in Marion's eyes, how hard it had been on her to keep everything secret.

He drew in a deep breath and let Sherlock's gaze a moment as he turned back to him. He looked down and let his breath out.

"See you've shaved it off, then." Sherlock said trying an attempt at humor.

"Yeah. Wasn't working for me." John said.

"Mm, I'm glad."

"What, you didn't like it?"

Sherlock smiled. "No. I prefer my doctors clean-shaven."

"That's not a sentence you hear every day!"

"He is right though. I never liked it either." Marion said.

John walked to his chair and sat down in it looking up at his friend. Marion dropped into Sherlock's chair, ignoring Sherlock's look.

"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked moving and placing a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Yeah, not bad. Bit ... smoked." John said smiling a little.

"Right."

John suddenly looked at him. "Last night... who did that? And why did they target me?"

"I don't know."

"Is it someone trying to get to you through me? Is it something to do with this terrorist thing you talked about?"

"I don't know. I can't see the pattern. It's too nebulous." Sherlock said moving to his wall of pictures. "Why would an agent give his life to tell us something incredibly insignificant? That's what's strange."

"'Give his life?'" John repeated.

"According to Mycroft. There's an underground network planning an attack on London… that's all we know." He sighed and looked back a moment at John. "These are my rats, John."

"Rats?"

"My markers: agents, low-lifes, people who might find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded. If one of them starts acting suspiciously, we know something's up. Five of them are behaving perfectly normally, but the sixth ..." He pointed at the photograph in the middle.

"I know him, don't I?" John asked sitting up.

"Lord Moran, peer of the realm, Minister for Overseas Development. Pillar of the establishment." Sherlock said turning back.

"Yes!"

"He's been working for North Korea since 1996."

"What?" John asked.

"Russia before that." Marion said her eyes narrowed as if she were squinting.

"What?" Sherlock asked looking back at her.

She opened her eyes. "Nothing…must have been something Mycroft said…"

"He's the Big Rat. Rat Number One. And he's just done something very suspicious indeed." Sherlock continued after looking at her a moment longer.

Sherlock went to his laptop and pulled up the footage of the train for Marion and John. They watched and blinked.

"Yeah, that's ... odd. There's nowhere he could have got off?" John asked.

"Not according to the maps."

"Mm."

Sherlock began to pace. "There's something…something, something I'm missing, something staring me in the face." He growled and rubbed his eyes. Sherlock's phone beeped and he lifted it even as Marion leaned over John's shoulder watching the recorded film.

John moved and sat down before the computer. "Any idea who they are 'this underground network?'" Sherlock looked at his phone. His network of spies had located Lord Moran. He was walking out of the Tube station at Westminster. "Intelligence must have a-a list of the most obvious ones."

"Our rat's just come out of his den." Sherlock said quietly.

"Al-Qaeda; the IRA have been getting restless again maybe they're gonna make an appearance ..."

"IRA would not be planning something this big. They do not have the resources or the reason to do it." Marion said looking up.

John looked at her. "Pardon."

She blinked. "Sorry…"

"You seem to know a lot about them…"

"Reading…" She said and coughed looking down at a magazine in her lap.

Sherlock then grinned. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! I've been an idiot a blind idiot!" He turned.

"What?" Marion and he said together.

Sherlock began to pace the room. "Oh, that's good. That could be brilliant."

"What are you on about?" John asked casting a look at Marion who shrugged.

"Mycroft's intelligence it's not nebulous at all. It's specific incredibly specific."

John's eyebrow rose up. "What do you mean?"

"Not an underground network, John. It's an Underground network."

"Right. ... What?"

"Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can't see it even when it's staring you in the face." He leaned over and clicked keys to replay the footage on the computer screen. "Look… seven carriages leave Westminster ..." He then clicked the other footage. "... but only six carriages arrive at St James's Park."

"Aren't they cars?" Marion asked. "I remember reading…"

"But that's ... I ... it's-it's impossible."

"Moran didn't disappear… the entire Tube compartment did. The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage."

"Detached it where?! You said there was nothing between those stations."

"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth." Sherlock pointed to the screen. "That carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere."

"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?" John asked.

Sherlock started to pace again. "It vanishes between St James's Park and Westminster. Lord Moran vanishes. You're kidnapped and nearly burned to death at a fireworks par..." He paused and looked back.

"What's the date, John today's date?"

"Hmm? November the ... My God."

Sherlock looked at his information. "Lord Moran he's a peer of the realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there's an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism Bill." He came to the couch and stopped smiling a little. "But he won't be there. Not tonight." He looked back at John. "Not the fifth of November."

"'Remember, remember.'"

"'Gunpowder, treason and plot.'" Sherlock said.

"'I know of no reason why the Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!'" Marion finished looking at them

ZzZ

It was an hour later when Sherlock was looking down at all the maps of the Tube before him. On the computer via WiFi was Howard Shilcott.

"There's nothing down there, Mr. Holmes, I told you. No sidings, no ghost stations." Howard said.

Sherlock hissed and turned the screen to John. Marion was on the floor looking at the maps she had. "There has to be. Check again."

Howard reached for something.

John was looking in a book. "Look…this whole area is a big mess of old and new stuff. Charing Cross is made up of bits of older stations like Trafalgar Square, Strand ..."

Sherlock looked at him and shook his head. "No, it's none of those. We've accounted for those."

Sherlock looked down and older map near his wife's knee. "St Margaret's Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street ..."

Howard had been chewing on the bobble of his hat and looked at something. "Hang on, hang on. Sumatra Road. You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes." He leaned and grabbed something off screen. "There is something. I knew it rang a bell." He sighed and muttered. "Where is it?" He came back into view. "There was a station down there."

"Well, why isn't it on the maps?" John said.

"'Cause it was closed before it ever opened." Howard said.

"What?"

Howard held up a book showing the page he was looking at. "They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface."

Sherlock looked at his wife. He straightened from the map. "It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster."

"And so what's down there? A bomb?" John asked.

Sherlock walked away and John gasped grabbing his coat to follow. Marion rose to her feet and followed them.

Sherlock turned to her as she came to them. "You aren't going."

"But there is a bomb and…"

"No. You are not going." He said firmly. "You are pregnant." He said.

"You are going to be a father again. Why are you going?" She retorted.

"Stay here!" He said. "I cannot have there when I am trying to think. I cannot have your life in danger."

"Oh, but by all means, put yours in the line of fire." She said folding her arms.

He sighed. "I really do not have time for this, my love. Trust me…please."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He sighed and kissed her mouth loudly. "Thank you. We will be fine. I love you. Stay safe."

"You too. I will summon you when it is clear." He promised as he moved quickly toward the Tube stations at the end of the street.

ZzZ

Marion sighed and turned on the television as she stood. "With many commentators saying the vote on the terrorism Bill will be too close to call, MPs are now making their way into the Chamber for what the government is calling the most important vote of this parliament. Over now to our ..." She changed the channel. "What freedoms exactly are we protecting if we start spying on our own people? This is an Orwellian measure on a scale unprecedented ..."

Growling she sat looking down as a text came. _Send Lestrade and the police to the Subway. Westminster station – back part of the system. There will be a bomb. Forgive me. I cannot have you here. Tell Lestrade. Love you. SH _She rolled her eyes. "Of course because you can defuse it, you bloody idiot." She sighed and lifted her phone.

_Mycroft. I need some of your best men. I have a bomb to defuse. Sis_

_You know where it is? Where should I meet you? Mycroft Holmes_

_Westminster Station. I am on my way now! I will give you details when I get there. Sis _

She moved and grabbed her coat and moved down the stairs. "Mrs. Hudson!"


	21. Hell Hath No Fury

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 21 – Hell Hath No Fury

Sherlock and John walked briskly along the road near the Houses of Parliament and headed to the stairs leading down into Westminster station. They walk across the concourse.

"So it's a bomb, then? A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb."

"Must be." Sherlock nodded.

"Right."John took out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling the police."

"What? No!" Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, this isn't a game. They need to evacuate Parliament."

"They'll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient." Sherlock reached into his coat and lifted out a crow bar. He wedges it in and pressed a maintenance door back on its hinges.

"And illegal."

"A bit." Sherlock agreed.

The gate opened and Sherlock pulled the gate behind them. They took out torches and looked about at the tunnels. John again checked his phone and there was no signal.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked not looking behind him.

"Coming." John said after he sighed.

They walked down several corridors, stairs, and through gates. At long last they walked onto the platform of Sumatra Road station. Sherlock shone his torch along the length of the track beside the platform but there is no sign of a train.

"I don't understand." Sherlock said looking confused.

"Well, that's a first!" John said sarcastically.

"There's nowhere else it could be." He turned to face the track and brought his hands up to either side of his head, screwing his eyes shut and concentrating. In his mind, he found himself sitting on a seat inside the missing Tube carriage. He was the only passenger. At the far end, smoke came under the bottom of the door and poured towards him. He turned his head to look and a fireball ignited behind the smoke and then raced along the carriage, engulfing Sherlock's position and continuing onwards.

Sherlock's mental image of himself relocated to the tunnel about a hundred yards away from the carriage. The inferno billowed out of the carriage toward him, but just before it reached him it is sucked up a large open vent in the ceiling like a chimney. He watched a second before again he was transported to the Palace of Westminster. The heated gas shimmered as it was forced out of air vents. Then from near the Eye across the Thames, the entire of Westminster exploded, blowing out glass and then dropping earthwards as it collapsed on itself.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open in horror. "OH!" He took off, turning left, running down the platform.

"What?" John asked following him.

Sherlock carefully jumped down off the end of the platform onto the tracks.

"Hang on. Sherlock?"

"What?" Sherlock asked turning back to him.

"That's ... Isn't it live?"

Sherlock set off walking down the middle of the track. "Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails."

"Course, yeah! Avoid the rails. Great!" John said as he jumped down to follow.

"This way." Sherlock said. "Marion told me about Tube rails when she lived in Berlin. The Strassenbahn."

"You sure?"

"Sure."

They did not walk far before they found the missing carriage.

"Ah. Look at that."

They continue on and then Sherlock pauses and shines his torch up at the ceiling. It is an air vent he saw like before. "John."

"Hmm?"

They looked up, both shining their torches and spot the small explosive devices there.

"Demolition charges." John hissed.

They continued toward the carriage. John looked under it as Sherlock looked to the side. Sherlock then opened the door and they climbed in walking along looking at it for any sign of the bomb. John walked clear to the end looking. At the second set of doors, Sherlock paused, something catching his eye.

"It's empty. There's nothing." John said looking about.

"Isn't there?" Sherlock asked as he traced a set of wires he had spotted down to a seat. John pointed his torch downwards as Sherlock gently knelt, shining his light under the cushion. He lifted his head and looked about. "This is the bomb."

"What?"

Sherlock stood up and lifts the cushion all the way up. The cavity underneath was full of wired-up explosives.

"It's not carrying explosives. The whole compartment is the bomb."

They walked along moving cushions revealing identical bomb sets all wired together. While John continued lifting seat cushions, Sherlock looked around the carriage and then took a few steps along the aisle before he realized that a floor panel was loose.

As John looked down at the latest batch of explosives, Sherlock took his gloves off and bent to the panel, forcing his fingers into the gap and lifting it upwards. Underneath was a massive bomb, roughly eight times the size of the others with the same components. While John took several deep nervous breaths, Sherlock propped the panel up against the wall of the train. They both looked down at the massive device, and then John looked up at Sherlock.

"We need bomb disposal."

"There may not be time for that now."

"So what do we do?"

Sherlock looked about. "I have no idea."

"Well, think of something." John barked at him

"Why d'you think I know what to do?" Sherlock asked him,

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes. You're as clever as it gets." John said pointing a finger at him.

"Doesn't mean I know how to defuse a giant bomb. What about you?"

"I wasn't in bomb disposal. I'm a bloody doctor."

Sherlock looked up at him angrily. "And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all."

The clock was frozen at 2:30.

"Can…can't we rip the timer off, or something?"

"That would set it off."

"You see? You know things." John said.

Sherlock turned away and sighed. He then gasped hearing something as he looked down. The countdown clock had turned on and was counting down. John groaned.

"Er ..." Sherlock gasped.

"My God!"

Sherlock paced away. "Er ..."

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"Please just ..."

John glared at him. "Why do you never call the police?"

"Well, it's no use now." Sherlock said spreading his hands

2:15

John was livid. "So you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police." He turned away a moment and then back.

"Go, John." He pointed at the door. "Go now."

"There's no point now, is there, because there's not enough time to get away; and if we don't do this ..." He gestured down to the mother bomb, "... other people will die!

1:57

John looked down a moment and then up at Sherlock. "Mind Palace."

"Hmm?"

"Use your Mind Palace."

"How will that help?"

"You've salted away every fact under the sun!"

"Oh, and you think I've just got 'How to Defuse a Bomb' tucked away in there somewhere?"

"Yes!"

Sherlock thought about it a moment. "Maybe."

He brought his fingers up to the side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Think." John encouraged. Sherlock lifted his head a little. "Think. Please think."

Sherlock groaned.

"Think!"

Sherlock's hands moved away from his face and flailed about a moment, while his eyes remained closed and he continued to make groaning noises. John closed his eyes, shook his head as the noises get louder and finally Sherlock let out a cry and opened his eyes. He breathed heavily for a moment, and then he lowers his hands and looked at John with a blank but apologetic look on his face.

John stared at him in disbelief. "Oh my God."

He turned away. Sherlock tore his scarf from around his neck and doubled over, burying his head in his hands, still making incoherent groaning noises. He dropped to his knees next to the bomb as John wandered a little way down the carriage.

"This is it."John said

Behind him Sherlock was still looking at the bomb

"Um, er ..."

John stopped moving and looked into space. "Oh my God."

Sherlock had reached in, feeling around the bomb. "Turn that off. Oh God! Er, um, er ..." He said.

1:29

John turned back and Sherlock looked up at him.

"I'm sorry."

John winced a little and then looked at him. "What?"

Sherlock looked at him, his voice soft, his eyes filling with tears. "I can't ... I can't do it, John. I don't know how." He straightened up to his knees. "Forgive me?"

"What?" John asked indignantly.

Sherlock brought his hands up to a prayer like position. "Please, John, forgive me ... for all the hurt that I caused you."

"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick."

"No."

"Another one of your bloody tricks."

"No."

"You're just trying to make me say something nice."

Sherlock chuckled lightly. "Not this time."

"It's just to make you look good even though you behaved like ..." He grimaced, fighting back tears, and turned away as he tries to steady his breathing. Sherlock moved away from the bomb and sat on the edge of one of the nearby tip-up seats. John gripped one of the handrails, looking down at the floor, then stamped his foot furiously.

His voice was low but savage as he spoke. "I wanted you not to be dead."

"Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for."

John sighed.

"If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and ..." John growled a little and turned away shaking his head lightly. "... you'd still have a future ... with Mary."

"Yeah. I know." He then looked at him. "And you. You are a husband and a father. Marion is never going to forgive us." He grimaced and turned away.

Sherlock clenched his fist against his mouth, and then wiped his nose, his face full of despair.

Finally John turned back. "Look, I find it difficult. Sherlock nodded bowing his head in sorrow. "I find it difficult, this sort of stuff."

Sherlock looked back up. "I know." He sighed. "I would have liked to have met my new little one."

John bowed his head and then looked up at Sherlock, his voice a whisper. "You were the best and the wisest man ..." He sniffled. "... that I have ever known."

Sherlock looked at him, his eyes wide and tear-filled.

John sighed, lowering his head again before raising it once more."Yes, of course I forgive you."

Sherlock gazed at him. John met his eyes for a moment, and then he took in a deep breath through his nose, closed his eyes, raised his head, and braced himself for death.

Nearby it sounded as if Sherlock is crying. His head was lowered and the back of his hand was across his mouth as his body shook with what seem to be sobs. John screwed his eyes even more tightly closed. Sherlock lowered his hand and turned his head away, then turned back, hooting with laughter.

John opened his eyes and looked across to him as Sherlock giggled. John starred at him and stepped forward and looked down at the countdown clock on the large bomb. It was repeatedly flicking back and forth between 1:28 and 1:29. John turned away as if he can't believe it.

He looked up at Sherlock. "You ..."

Sherlock stood up, tears of relief and mirth running down his cheeks."Oh, your face!"

"... utter ..."

"Your face!"

"You …"

Sherlock grinned. "I totally had you."

"You cock! I knew it! I knew it! You f..."

"Oh, those things you said…such sweet things! I-I never knew you cared!"

"I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this ..."

"Scout's honor." Sherlock said grinning.

"... to anyone. You KNEW!"

"Ahh." He moved to the bomb.

"You knew how to turn it off!" John was livid.

"There's an Off switch."

"What?"

"There's always an Off switch."

John bent to look.

Sherlock stood up again. "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an Off switch."

"So why did you let me go through all that?"

"I didn't lie altogether. I've absolutely no idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off." He chuckled and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Through the door, the pair could see several torch beams and radio calls.

"Oh!"

"And you did call the police." John hissed at him.

" 'Course I called the police." Sherlock said smiling.

Three armed officers are approaching, flashlights shining from their raised rifles. With them was Marion holding a torch and her Glock in an approved military grip. She was wearing a Kevlar vest and her hair was pulled back for action.

"I'm definitely gonna kill you." John hissed at Sherlock

"Oh, please! Killing me…that's so two years ago." He smiled again and John and moved to open the door. Despite his anger, John let out a breath and chuckled a little.

Sherlock noticed Marion as she stepped into the compartment after one of the men, her weapon pointed downwards as she looked at the boys. "Are you two done goofing around?" She asked looking at them.

"We just saved parliament." Sherlock protested.

"Indeed." She said putting the safety on her weapon before stepping forward and holstering it at her thigh.

"Marion. What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock asked as she came to them.

"That is a good question. Why are you here?" John asked.

She ignored him and knelt down by the bomb. She stuck her head in and flicked a sharp switchblade from her pocket. "You clearly found the off switch, but if this has a remote detonator there is an override…"

John stared at her. "How the hell would you know about that?"

"Sherlock hold this…right there." She said lifting the torch to him. He took it and held it looking down at her as she clicked the blade to where it had to be. She then sighed leaning down a little. It was not the least bit comfortable, but she knew what needed to be done.

She followed the wires. She cut one the bomb started counting again.

"Uh…Marion…"John said.

"Shut up." She barked at him.

She cut a second and a noise was hard. She traced the connections and then slashed a final wire and the counter went black. She looked up. "It is disarmed." She said sitting up and flicking her blade back. She nodded to the men with her. "Tell Mycroft everyone is safe now."

Sherlock and John stared at her as John helped her to her feet.

She looked at them. "What?" She said.

"You want to explain how?" Sherlock asked. He knew his wife had been the sister to a world renowned bomber and surely she picked some up, but how did she know what to do for this bomb? That was clearly harder than making one…

"Maybe soon. Over dinner? You coming?" she asked as a man helped her down.

John and Sherlock stared after her as she walked back the way they had come. They moved quickly and followed her. Sherlock caught her in a few short strides. "Seriously? You could defuse the bomb?"

"That one was easy, I am sure you English could figure it out which is why Lord Moran had it." She smiled a little and kept walking. "Beside the lever was there for him in case he set it off accidently. Most bombs would not have more than thirty-seconds." She said smiling. "I am sure even the Scotland Yard bomb disposal could have made that in time." She moved away as her husband pondered what she said as she continued.

"Wait, hold on…" John said.

She smiled and kept singing softly the poem for the Gunpowder Plot as she kept going, her lovely voice echoing on the walls.

""_Remember, remember! _

_The fifth of November, _

_The Gunpowder treason and plot; _

_I know of no reason _

_Why the Gunpowder treason _

_Should ever be forgot! _

_Guy Fawkes and his companions _

_Did the scheme contrive, _

_To blow the King and Parliament _

_All up alive. _

_Threescore barrels, laid below, _

_To prove old England's overthrow. _

_But, by God's providence, him they catch, _

_With a dark lantern, lighting a match!""_

Sherlock and John hopped down to follow her and shook their heads.

ZzZ

Outside the door to 221B, reporters and photographers were milling around in the road. Sherlock was on the phone looking out a moment. The tune to Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.

"Sherlock, please. I beg of you. You can take over at the interval. Or send your lovely wife. They like her…"

Sherlock was in his bedroom and he walked over to the wardrobe mirror and one-handedly buttoned his jacket over the purple shirt he was wearing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise. There's nothing I can do to help." He turned back and looked at his wife who was watching him in amusement.

"But you don't understand the pain of it…the horror!"

Sherlock helped his wife to her feet and then clicked the button to end the call. He smirked at his wife who walked before him, or rather waddled before him. With the baby in her hips, it made it hard for her to walk normally, but she managed even if it did look awkward. They still did not know what they were having yet. He suspected she knew, but she didn't let on. All the clothing she had bought was neutral. It wasn't the only thing she hadn't told him. She had not told him everything about her past with her bomber brother, but he accepted what she had to say. She clearly did not wish to talk about it much and it was her past. He was concerned with her future now, their future, together, as man and wife.

He liked being a husband and father, but it was hard for him to admit his feelings at times. He was a guarded person and his wife, also a guarded person, understood that. They could spend hours as the made love talking about the past and the future. He was just content to have her at his side, this curious woman who knew him better than anyone, and yet wasn't scared off.

"Come on. You'll have to go down. They want the story." John said as they came into the room.

Lizzy was standing at the window looking down. "So many daddy."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "In a minute."

Mary was sitting holding a glass of champagne. Mrs. Hudson was beside her and Greg was occupying John's chair also holding a glass of champagne. Sherlock turned to the kitchen and popped the cork on another bottle and walked across the room with a glass. He knelt and poured a glass.

Marion held apple juice and smiled at him. Sherlock straightened and kissed her cheek before he moved about topping off bottles.

"Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary. Have you set a date?"

"Er, well we thought April." Mary said. She looked at Marion who smiled at her.

"Oh! Spring wedding!"

"Yeah. Well, once we've actually got engaged."

"Yeah." John said.

"We were interrupted last time." She said looking pointedly at Sherlock who smiled at her.

"Yeah."

"Well, I can't wait."He raised his glass in a toast. John smiled at him.

Sherlock walked to the window and looked out over his daughter's shoulder.

"You will be there, Sherlock?" Mary asked.

"Weddings…not really my thing." Sherlock said turning to smile and wink at her.

"By which he means, 'yes'" Marion said looking at him.

He shook his head and smirked. He then lifted his daughter up to his hip. "What do you think?"

"I wanna be a flower girl!"

"Seriously?" Sherlock asked looking at her.

"Then I get flowers and meet Prince Charming…"

"I am going to have to start policing your books young lady…"

"But…"

He clicked his tongue at her and then grinned at her.

The door opened to reveal Molly.

"Hello, everyone."

"Hey, Molly." John smiled at her.

Molly was holding hands with a man who had come with her. "This is Tom."

John looked at the man and almost did a double-take before looking across to where Sherlock was softly laughing at his daughter's antics.

"Tom, this is everyone." Molly said.

"Hi." Tom said. He looked very much like Sherlock, dark reddish hair, shorter perhaps than Sherlock, but tall and slender build. He had pale blue eyes and high prominent cheekbones. He also had a dark overcoat with the collar turned up and a scarf about his neck like Sherlock.

Marion stepped forward. "Hi!" She greeted and hugged him. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"You must be Marion." Tom smiled at her.

"Hi." Greg said looking up.

"It's really nice to meet you all." He looked at John. "Hi."

John smiled finally as he came back to his senses. "Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John." He said taking the younger man's hand. "Good to meet you." He looked across to where Sherlock was standing.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked as he set his toddler on her feet.

"Ready." John said.

"I come too daddy?" Lizzy asked.

Sherlock smiled. "If you wish, little duck." He turned her around and tucked in her shirt. "But let's tuck in your tail first."

Tom turned to meet Sherlock, who smiled down at Greg as he walked past him, and then he caught sight of Tom for the first time. He stopped dead and his eyes widened. Tom looked at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gave him the once-over from his feet upwards.

"Champagne?" Greg asked.

"Yes." Molly smiled as he lifted the bottle.

Sherlock's jaw dropped open a little and he turned his eyes towards John, who grinned back at him expectantly. Finally Sherlock held out his hand to Tom, and they shook hands. Sherlock glanced down at Molly, and then walked in between the couple and out of the door. Tom turned to watch him go.

Greg handed Molly a glass of champagne."Thanks." She smiled.

John started to follow Sherlock and Lizzy, but stopped briefly to take another look at Tom, who was taking a glass from Greg.

"Thank you." Tom said.

Marion stepped forward. "What do you do Tom?" She said taking his hand and directing him to the center of the group as she nodded to John.

John headed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Sit down, love." Mrs. Hudson said.

Tom smiled and joined her. "Oh, thanks."

As he walked to the sofa and sat, Greg looked at Molly. "So, um, is it serious, you two?

"Yeah! I've moved on!" Molly smiled.

Greg cast a look to Marion who smiled a little as she put a hand on her belly watching as Tom had already launched into a conversation with Mary and Mrs. Hudson.

Outside on the landing, John walked over to Sherlock, who was looping his scarf around his neck. Sherlock then knelt to help Lizzy into her coat and she giggled wrapping her own scarf like her daddy. Sherlock smiled. Oh this little one was going to be a handful the older she got.

John pointed back towards the door. "Did you, er ...?"

"I'm not saying a word."Sherlock said straightening and talking Lizzy's hand.

"No, best not."

Sherlock looked down at how he has just tied his scarf, and then threw up his hand with an exasperated expression and sighed.

John looked at the door again and turned back to Sherlock. "I'm still waiting."

"Hmm?" Sherlock asked as he pulled a hat onto his daughter's head and pulled it down to far making her giggle and bat at him.

"Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me…put me in the bonfire?"

Sherlock picked up his coat and put it on. "I don't know. I don't like not knowing." He moved to the stairs with his daughter before him and John behind. "Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat."

John stopped a couple of steps from the bottom.

"I don't know who was behind all this, but I will find out, I promise you." Sherlock said as he pulled his gloves on and then reached down and lifted his daughter onto his arm. She sat and hugged him relaxing in his arms.

John smiled. The man really was amazing with kids. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."

Sherlock asked not looking at him. "Hmm?" He asked tying the little girl's hat about her chin with his free hand and making sure her coat was buttoned.

"Being back. Being a hero again."

"Oh, don't be stupid."

"You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You love it."

Sherlock turned to face him. "Love what?"

"Being Sherlock Holmes." John said stepping down fully to the floor.

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean." Sherlock said looking at his daughter. "Do you know what that means?"

She shook her head, her thick locks bouncing from under her hat.

Sherlock smiled and kissed her cheek and then walked down the hall a little.

"Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?"

Sherlock paused by the door. "You know my methods, John. I am known to be indestructible."

"No, but seriously. When you were dead, I went to your grave."

"I should hope so."

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you."

Sherlock turned to him. "I know. I was there."

"I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead."

"I heard you." Sherlock said softly looking back at him. He then looked at his friend a moment before he took a breath and turned around looking at his daughter. "Ready?"

She giggled and looked at him. "Daddy!"

"Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said as he smiled and started toward the door, but then hesitated for a moment and reached to the coat rack. Taking his deerstalker from its peg, he put it onto his head and tugged it into position.

Lizzy clapped her hands in delight and pulled on it a little. "Now you are Sherlock Daddy!" She giggled at him.

He smiled at her and opened the door went out to meet the reporters as they gathered round him, taking photos and shouting questions at him. John closed the door and stepped to his side. Lizzy smiled as she held her head on her father's shoulder as he spoke to the men and women.

Above Marion watched and smiled.


	22. Happiness Always

The Wife of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 22 – Happiness Always

It was a rather cold day in February when Marion looked down at her phone buzzing. She was just finishing a presentation she had been working on for the board of directors at the museum. She lifted the phone. "Hello?"

"Marion. Hi!" Mary's voice said on the other side.

"Oh!" Marion said. "Mary, how are you?"

"Well. I was wondering if you would come and have some lunch and tea with me. I need your thoughts on something."

"My thoughts."

"I always appreciated your advice. Don't stop now."

"All right. Where?"

"The little shop on the corner of Baker Street and Castle?"

"I will be there." Marion said and hung up. She sighed and levered herself up. She was due within six weeks and it was becoming harder and harder for her to move about. She grabbed her coat and quickly texted her husband. _Going to lunch with Mary. _

A moment later… _All right. How are you feeling? SH_

_Well. Just tired._

_Don't overdo it. I will see you for dinner then? Say seven? SH_

_If my work is done. _

_Come now. You have worked late every day this week. Lizzy misses you. I miss you. SH_

_All right. I will see you then, Mr. Holmes. _

_Good. Love you. SH_

_Flirt. _

_Always. SH_

ZzZ

Marion sat down at the small café table and looked at Mary. Mary's face was bright. "Thank you for coming." She smiled at her fast friend.

"Anything for you Mary, you know that."

"I already owe you one for…"

Marion pursed her lips as the waiter came to get their order.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"I will have tea please." Marion said.

"I will as well." Mary said.

As the man left Mary learned forward. "Iģne, please."

Marion hissed. "Don't use that name here."

"But it was your name." Mary said.

"Shall I use yours?" Marion asked.

"No, I see your point. We both have moved on. Look at us. Both of us will be married and domestic. Who would have thought that fifteen years ago."

"Indeed." Marion said and sighed. "So much has happened. I am so happy you are well. We must talk sometime about our lives, but…" she looked about. "Not here."

"You have always been a friend." She took Marion's hand. "I need to ask you. Would you be my Matron of Honor?"

Marion gasped. "Really? Me?"

"Of course. I have other friends, naturally, but after what you did in Prague."

"That was nothing and I am glad I was there." Marion said almost dismissively.

"You saved my life. Now I am asking you to again stand by me."

"With pleasure." Marion said smiling. "After all. I can keep disaster from happening again."

"Indeed. Which is why I need you."

"Who is going to be the best man?"

"Who do you think?"

"Has he asked him yet?"

"He is going to today. How do you think Sherlock will take it?"

"He will be surprised I am sure."

"He has mellowed a bit I have heard."

"Fatherhood does that." Marion smiled into her water glass.

"Indeed. As does motherhood. You are not the reckless woman I once knew."

"Neither are you."

"Cheers." Mary said lifting her glass as their tea came.

ZzZ

Greg walked into Molly's lab at Bart's.

"Greg."

"Molly." He greeted.

"I just had a thought." She was holding a large bowl before her.

"Is that a brain?!" Greg asked looking into the bowl.

"What if John asks Sherlock to be his best man?" Molly asked.

"Well, he will, won't he? He's bound to."

"Exactly."

"So?"

"So he'll have to make a speech in front of people."

Greg suddenly seemed to realize what she was saying and looked at her. "Oh dear…"

"There'll be actual people there, actually listening."

"Well, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Helen-Louise probably wondered the same."

"Helen-Louise?" Greg asked.

Molly looked down at the bowl she held and Greg made a face. "Oh!"

ZzZ

Greg looked up as Marion waddled into his office. It was the best way he could describe how she was moving now. The baby had shifted downwards and was making it rather uncomfortable for her. "Dear lord, Marion, when are you due again?"

"Not for a couple more months. I am due the last week of March."

"You look ready to pop now." He said offering her a chair. He smiled at her. "So. I have heard you are the Matron of Honor."

"Yes." She smiled. "Though the baby coming may put a bit of a damper on some of my activities."

"There will be other bridesmaids surely."

"Yes. Janine, Annabelle, and Clara."

"Good." He said.

"I will not miss the wedding, however. I doubt this will stay in that late."

He chuckled. "No." He then turned serious as he leaned against his desk. "Do you think John will ask Sherlock?"

"Ask him what?"

"To be his best man."

"If he doesn't I will throttle him."

"But how will Sherlock take it?"

"Who knows?" Marion said leaning forward. "Have you had lunch?"

"No? Are you hungry?"

"I am feeding two." She said.

He smiled and offered her a hand. She levered herself up and smiled as he led her out. "Been a while since I took a lovely woman to lunch."

"Oh come off it. I am the size of a house." She hissed at him.

He laughed.

ZzZ

Mrs. Hudson was seated in her kitchen and answered the phone.

"Oh, hallo, dear."

"I can't find Marion." Molly said on the other end of the line. She sighed holding an electric bone saw, her coat spattered with blood as were her safety goggles.

"I was just thinking. If-if John does ask Sherlock ..."

"What, the speech, dear? No, it'll be fine."

"It-it's not just the speech, though, is it?"

"Have you talked to Marion?"

"No? Should I?"

"I am not sure…"

ZzZ

Shortly afterwards, John let himself in the front door of 221 and walked towards the stairs. High-pitched hysterical noises came through the open door of 221A. As the noises continued, punctuated with an occasional squeal of "Oh, dear!" and "Oh, brilliant!" John went into Mrs. Hudson's flat and looked into the kitchen in concern.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

She waved him off as she sat at the table laughing hysterically. "Oh, hello, darling!"

"You all right?"

She covered her mouth laughing.

"I was…I was coming to see Sherlock, and I thought you were ..."

"Go!" She giggled.

"... possibly dying." He grinned a moment at the scene.

"Oh, sorry!" She got up.

"What's wrong?"

"The-the telegrams!" She giggled more.

"Sorry, what?"

"Oh, sorry, dear!" She walked to him and patted his arm as she let out another shrieking laugh. John looked bemused after her.

ZzZ

John trotted up the stairs to 221B.

"Sherlock?" He called.

"Oh hi, John." Marion said looking up from where she was seated in the common room.

"What was that noise downstairs?" Sherlock asked. He was in the kitchen wearing safety goggles, holding an eyeball at the end of a long pair of tweezers. He held a blowtorch to the optic nerve dangling behind it. He was in a dress shirt, slacks, and his camel colored dressing gown.

"Er, it was Mrs. Hudson laughing." John said.

"Sounded like she was torturing an owl." Sherlock said.

"See told you was nothing to worry about, dear." Marion said looking back at them.

"Yeah. Well, it was laughter."

"Could have been both." Sherlock said.

John walked to Marion's side. "Can you give me a moment with him?"

Marion patted his arm. "Of course. I will be near if you need me." She said softly.

"Why would I need you?"

"Back up?" She smiled as she levered herself up and moved out the door. "I'm going to go check on Lizzy." She said a little louder than was needed, but was clear Sherlock wasn't paying attention. She waddled out to the stairway and sat down on the stairs knowing her daughter would sleep another hour at least.

"Busy?" John asked.

Sherlock sighed deeply. " Just occupying myself. Sometimes, it's sooo hard not smoking."

The eyeball slipped from the tweezers and dropped into a mug on the table.

"Mm-hmm. Mind if I interrupt?"

"Er, be my guest." He said gesturing to a chair near him.

Sherlock flicked off the blowtorch and pushed the safety goggles to his forward as he set the torch down and then offered John the mug as his friend sat down.

"Tea? "

"Er ..." John waved a negative. He sat down. "So. The big question."

"Mm-hm."

John folded his hands on the table. "The best man."

"The best man?"

"What do you think?"

"Billy Kincaid."

"Sorry, what?"

"Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter. Best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed." John frowned at him. "Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children's homes in north England." John rubbed a hand over his eyes. Sherlock grimaced a moment. "Sure every now and again there'd be some garrotings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrotings, on balance I'd say ..."

John finally had had enough and interrupted him. "For my wedding! For me. I need a best man."

"Oh, right."

"Maybe not a garrotter."

Sherlock cocked his head. "Gavin?"

"Who?"

"Gavin Lestrade? He's a man, and good at it."

"Greg." Marion said from the stairs as she shifted making it sound like she was walking up the stairs. Both men looked in the direction a moment.

John coughed. "She's right. It's Greg. And he's not my best friend."

"Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he's nice, um, though I'm not sure how well he'd cope with all ..."

John interrupted again. "No, Mike's great, but he's not my best friend."

They looked at each other a moment. John's phone chimed. He looked down a moment.

_Seriously even he can't be that dense. Want me to smack him upside the head for you? M_

_No. Let me get a word in. And I thought you were seeing to Lizzy._

_I am…_

Sherlock looked at him thoughtfully trying to think of someone else to suggest.

"Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life."

Sherlock made a face. "Well ..."

"No, it is! It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world."

"Yes."

John nodded as if the obvious was there, but Sherlock cocked his head at him. "Mary Morstan ..."

"Yes."

John sighed. " ... and ..."

_Oh for the love of God… _Marion's text made him smirk a little as he looked from his phone to Sherlock who was waiting for more information. John then took a deeper breath.

"... you."

Sherlock looked at him a moment and blinked rapidly.

5 minutes…

Sherlock had frozen solid, staring blankly in John's direction but not actually looking at him. John tapped his foot patiently.

5 more minutes…

Sherlock was still motionless.

"Sherlock."

Sherlock still did not react.

_What is he doing? _

_Staring at me… _

5 more minutes…

Sherlock was still fixed in place, staring sightlessly ahead of him. The silence drags on.

"That's getting a bit scary now." John said.

Marion opened the side door to the kitchen and looked at her husband who was staring. Marion shook his head and walked to her husband and lifted her hand and snapped her fingers before his face. Sherlock's brain finally began to reboot and he took a breath. He swallowed and narrowed his eyes slightly as he refocused and looked at his wife a moment before looking to John.

"So, in fact..." He cocked his head blinking and thinking a moment. "You-you mean ..."

"Yes." John said

"I'm your ..."

John nodded. Marion smiled. It was cute to watch Sherlock work through things he really had trouble following…like human nature…names…

"... best ..."

"... man."

"... friend?" Sherlock said almost at the same time. He blinked and looked at his wife and made a face.

"Yeah, 'course you are. 'Course you're my best friend." He smiled.

Sherlock absently picked up the mug from the table and raised it toward his mouth. John watched with interest as he took a long slurping drink and then swallowed

"Well, how was that?"

Sherlock licked his lips and then looked at John.

"Surprisingly okay."

Inside the mug the eyeball floated to the surface.

"So you'll have to make a speech, of course." John said.

Sherlock blinked again and then looked at John speechless.

Marion stepped forward and took the tea mug from him before he dropped it and then held his arm, rubbing it lightly. "It will be okay. I am going to have to do one too." She smiled.

"Mary asked you too?" John asked looking at her.

"Yes."

"Good." John nodded.

Sherlock looked at his wife a moment. "How are you good friends with Mary?"

She chuckled. "Old souls." She shrugged and waddled back to the living room. He looked after her and cocked his head.

ZzZ

Marion smiled as she walked into the dress shop with Sherlock walking behind her and Mary. Sherlock was not really sure why he had been drafted to come along, but he did so at his wife's behest. She tired easily and he knew it.

Marion looked behind her. Sherlock was carrying a file with him. He stood behind the women, looking haughtily around the room. A man stepped forward to greet them. "Hello. I am Doug."

"Mary. I have an appointment." Mary said.

"Oh very good. Can I get you some tea then?"

"That would be lovely." Marion said as Sherlock watched her drop onto a couch.

Sherlock dropped between the women. "The average cost of a dress is twelve hundred pounds Mary." He said looking about. "What exactly is the budget?"

"I would like to spend less than 1000 if I could."

He nodded making notes as the tea came. Marion sipped.

"What exactly is the style you want?" Doug asked.

"I like a little old fashioned. Nothing really fancy. Lace with a nice line…"

Sherlock looked about. "May I look about?"

"Certainly." Doug said.

Sherlock stood, buttoned his suit jacket and began to walk about looking. Marion followed him. "You know he is enjoying this. He never got to do this with our wedding."

"You got married in the Eye. I think he made due pretty well."

Marion smiled into her tea. "Indeed, but I think he likes the challenge. Let him do as much as he can. Keeps his mind active."

Mary nodded sipping her tea as Doug returned. He had a dress and Mary went to try it on.

Sherlock returned with two and looked at his wife as she sat there. "What are you thinking?" He asked looking at her face. She was daydreaming it seemed.

"How pretty she will look?"

"Are you in pain?" He asked watching her grimace as she shifted. He pushed a pillow behind her and his nimble hands danced on her back.

"No." She smiled. "Oh." She smiled as Mary came out wearing the dress.

"This is a base line." Doug said as he helped Mary up before the mirrors.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No. That isn't flattering in the slightest."

Mary looked at him as he stepped forward. "Seriously?"

"Far too frilly for the likes of you Mary." Sherlock said looking at her, his green/blue eyes bright. He lifted one he had picked. "Try this one. I have another as well, but I have a feeling about this one."

Mary disappeared again as Sherlock found a long lace veil.

"You are utterly enjoying this."

"What?" He asked looking back at his wife as he held it up on his head testing the length of it and the width.

"You never got to do this for our wedding. Admit it, you are having fun."

He smiled a little. "Our wedding fit us, my dear. Do you regret not doing all this?"

"Not in the slightest, but watching you doing this for John and Mary makes me smile." She beamed at him.

"Oh? Stop it, it is a little unnerving."

"Oh, I love you."

He grunted and came and pressed a kiss to her mouth. "I love you too." He murmured.

He looked up as he saw Mary returning. The dress was cream with lace and fit her and her personality well. Lace and pearls. It was close to her body and had a long train. Beautiful, a little older fashioned for a woman who was not in her twenties. Sherlock smiled as she looked at herself.

"Sherlock…how did you know...?" She asked looking at him in the mirror.

"I have an eye for detail. Now…" He walked over and put the veil on and spread it out.

Doug nodded. "I might be out of a job soon." He smiled. "That is amazing."

Marion smiled and had her hands together smiling. Mary turned to look at her. "I am starting to see why you married him…"

"Adorable isn't he."

"Yes…" Mary said looking affectionately at Sherlock.

"We need to find you soft shoes to last the day and…" Sherlock started to pace. "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue…"

"Sherlock, darling." Marion lifted herself up out of her seat. "You are going to wear a hole in the floor."

"This is it." Mary said looking at Doug.

"So all together that would be…"

"752 quid with fifty for alterations." Sherlock said looking at her. "Leaves you well under budget and with some wiggle room."

"Sold." Mary smiled as she came to Marion and hugged her. Tears in her eyes. She then hugged Sherlock who was looking at her startled.

Doug stood bemused as he looked at the three. The easiest sale he had ever done thanks to Sherlock Holmes of all people.

"All right ladies. We must go to the floral shops next." Sherlock said when Mary returned and had paid. She had an appointment for her first alteration in two weeks. Sherlock held the door open for them as they walked out into the sunlight.

He walked behind them as they chattered to each other and pulled his coat around him as he smiled. Well one thing down. He made notes in his folder as the pair looked for a taxi. Mary called one and they all got in. Sherlock sat with his wife beside him and Mary across from them as he wrote in his own short hand as Mary gave directions.

She leaned forward. "Thank you Sherlock."

"Hummm?"

"Thank you. For all you are doing."

"It is fine. This is all rather interesting."

"He means he is having fun. He just won't admit it." Marion said.

He made a face at her and then looked down at his smart phone putting dates into it and tuning out the women as they began to talk.

ZzZ

Marion and John looked at each other as the baker put cake before them. Sherlock stood nearby watching as the two of them ate the small slices. Marion was exhausted from picking flowers and a venue to book for Mary. She took her matron of honor duties very seriously.

The surprising person to take the work seriously was Sherlock. He had dove into the middle of the planning as though he were a wedding planner. He took careful notes and had provided ideas for dress colors and which dress would be flattering, or at least more flattering.

Since nothing would be all that flattering on Marion, they had picked Janine, the second bridesmaid, and friend of Mary's to be the model for the dresses. Once that was selected, then the color. It was a tie between lilac, sage minty green, or copper. Mary's colors were pale blue, white, silver, and lilac and so the dresses would be lilac as per Sherlock's suggestion. Marion would wear a slightly lighter shade than the others. With her due date only two weeks before the wedding, she was to have her dress altered the week before.

The dresses were strapless and showed off the ample bosom of the ladies and hung down. It was as flattering as bridesmaids' dresses got. Sherlock and John liked them and Mary had yielded to Sherlock after he found her perfect dress. He was constantly making notes, drawing pictures, and keeping his rather massive file on the details. He really was planning the hell of this wedding and no one was about to stop him since he was both doing a good job and seemed to be enjoying the distraction since he wasn't doing any cases while this was happening.

Janine was going to do the Hen party since Marion would not be available. However, Marion was actively planning the Bridal Shower at a local spa retreat. The girls would need it and Sherlock had made suggestions as to packages which Mary and Marion took. They needed a day.

Sherlock spent his days shepherding the girls as John had called them, Mary and Marion around to different places or being with John and Mary as they went out as well. Today, he was with John and Mary as they were sampling cake.

Sherlock watched his wife as she tried the various types and looked at her husband. "Why can't they just have something simple and good like cheesecake?"

"I don't like cheesecake." John said behind her as they looked at the samples.

Marion sighed and tasted the cakes before her. Sherlock was watching her. He knew her pallet would be different due to her pregnancy, but it would be more heightened than John's. She really liked the whipped buttercream frosting with the marble cake. Sherlock and John tried it and agreed it was the best of the lot. Mary would be with Marion in a day to decide on what the cake would look like, but she had an appointment she could not miss this day.

The small group bid farewell to the baker and Marion took a breath, a hand going to her belly as she stood a moment, eyes closed, face turned to the sun. Sherlock came to her and gently splayed his large hand on her lower back as the other went to her shoulder. "My love?" He asked.

"Nothing." She said opening her eyes. "Just small pains."

His hand dropped to her belly as he rubbed her lower back softly. "You should rest when we get home."

"Too much to do…"

"Then at least lay on the couch. For me, Habibi." He said softly.

She nodded as John got a taxi. "Yes, Sevgilim." She said.

He blinked and then followed her as she got into the taxi as John held the door for the pair of them. Marion's eyes closed again as she leaned against the window. Sherlock looked at her a moment and then shook his head a little as John climbed in.

"Baker Street please." Sherlock said not looking up at the driver.

"Sir."

Sherlock became busy with his file as he looked down at it as they drove back toward Baker Street. Mary had supplied him with the master list of those to be invited and he would be working on that as soon as they got home. They were already receiving RSVPs and Sherlock needed to work out seating, transportation, and other details.

Once there, Sherlock had Marion go to the couch and set about making her tea. On the wall above her was the start of his massive plans as to the wedding details. She looked at them and smiled a little. Her husband never did anything half assed and this would not be one of them.

ZzZ

Sherlock had taken it upon himself to vet the Ushers and Wedding Party members who he felt needed to have a little extra incentive. Marion was sleeping in the bedroom with the door closed. He had made sure there was some music playing so she would not hear them as he sat down across the table from a young man, perhaps Sherlock's own age looking around the room as he sat there. Lizzy was also down for a nap, but he expected she would be up before her mother. Marion was exhausted and he was going to let her rest as much as possible and yet still get his duties, as he saw them, done.

Sherlock held a pen as he looked at the small file before him. "David Williams of 72 Carry Street."

"Yes." David said looking at Sherlock as he looked at his notes. Sherlock said nothing for a few moments and David sighed. "So, what exactly are my duties as an usher?" He picked up the Sudokube from the desk and idly played with it.

Sherlock frowned disapprovingly, then put down his pen and folds his hands. "Let's talk about Mary, first."

"Sorry, what?"

"Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years."

"A-ages ago. We're j... we're just good friends now."

"Is that a fact?" He looked down at his notes in front of him. "Whenever she tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of time or current location, suggesting you have her on text alert. In all your Facebook photographs of the happy couple, Mary takes centre frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded."

David laughed a little uncomfortably. "You can't assume from that I've still got some kind of interest in Mary."

"You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on no less than three separate occasions. Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Sherlock asked watching him.

David opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Sherlock nodded and looked down to make a note in his file. "I think from now on we'll downgrade you to 'casual acquaintance'. No more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John's presence." He put the pen down and folded his hands looking at David intently. "I have your contact details. I will be monitoring."

David looked at him a little wide eyed. "They're right about you. You're a bloody psychopath."

"High-functioning sociopath ... with your number." Sherlock corrected. He grinned manically, showing a lot of teeth, then dropped the smile and steepled his hands in front of his chin. David looked down, then let out a nervous breath and got up and walked away. He left the flat shaken as Sherlock picked up the Sudokube and put it back into its proper position on the table.

A soft sound was heard and Sherlock turned seeing Lizzy coming into the room. Rumpled from sleep, the little dark haired bombshell, his little duck, looked up at him rubbing sleep from her eyes. He smiled affectionately and got out of his chair and walked to her.

"Hello, little duck. Want to help daddy?"

"Yes." She smiled.

"I have an usher coming in. I want your thoughts." He said nodding to her. The second usher, Tory, came into the room looking about. Sherlock kissed his daughter's cheek. "Okay, mein Schatz. Ich muss allein sein. Geh spielen. Wir werden mehr in einem Moment chatten." He said.

She got down to play quietly. "Klar, Daddy." She said.

Zzz

Two days later, Marion and Mary were out looking at flowers and DJs when Sherlock had Lizzy and Archie before him. He sat in his chair while the pair sat in John's chair. Archie's mother had an errand to run and so Sherlock had volunteered to watch him while she left. Startled she agreed when she say his own daughter who was only a couple years younger than Archie.

"Basically it's a cute smile to the bride's side, cute smile to the groom's side and then the rings." Sherlock said looking at Archie.

"No." Archie said.

"And you have to wear the outfit."

"No."

"You really do have to wear the outfit."

"What for?"

"Grown-ups like that sort of thing." Sherlock said shrugging.

"Why?"

Sherlock paused and then shrugged again. "... I don't know. I'll ask one."

Lizzy giggled. "Daddy you are a grown up."

"I am not. That is slander young lady." He said and she giggled. "And you have to dress in that cute dress and throw flowers."

"But they are pretty. Why daddy?"

"They like it." He said smiling a little.

Archie then looked thoughtful. "You're a detective."

"Yep." Sherlock said popping the 'p' loudly.

"Have you solved any murders?"

"Sure. Loads."

"Can I see?"

Sherlock hesitated a moment and then shrugged. "Yeah, all right."

All three got up and went to Sherlock's laptop. He called up a webpage and pressed keys to show the scenes he had on file. Lizzy leaned in. "What happened to his face?"

"Gas leak." Sherlock said.

"Ouch."

Archie looked at another. "What's all the stuff in his eye?"

Sherlock smiled. "Maggots."

"Cool!"

Sherlock looked at him a moment and then nodded. "Mm!" He looked at Lizzy who was smiling. "What are you about little miss."

"Daddy helps people." She smiled at him.

"Yes I do." He then leaned close. "But we can't tell people about these. This is our secret." He said hearing the door downstairs open.

Archie grinned. "Scout's honor, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock smiled and looked up as his mother came into the room. "He was a good boy, Mrs. Taylor."

"Good. Thank you." She smiled and Archie walked to her. Sherlock waved goodbye to him and sighed.


	23. A Change in Plans

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 23 – Changes to Plans

March 22 2014

Marion took a breath as she rose to her feet at the bridal shower location. She had been feeling twinges all morning and been able to hide them, but it was becoming harder. These were getting worse unlike her Braxton-Hicks contractions, these were starting to become more frequent.

She ignored them and sighed as she smiled and joined the other four women as they were introduced to the massage therapists there. Marion smiled as they were told to go get into swimming suits and get into the mineralized pools for a while. The warm water and minerals would relax them and open pours.

Marion was the first out and she stepped into the water and sighed. She sat on the stair and relaxed, letting the water sooth her. Mary came out and touched her hand.

"Are you all right?"

"Just twinges." Marion said.

"You let me know if it gets worse."

"This is your day, Mary."

"I mean it. If you go into labor, Sherlock will want to know. He missed the last birth and he is not about to miss this one."

Marion laughed. "He told you that?"

"Yes."

Marion nodded as the other women came and the group all relaxed in the water. They were treated to sweets and fruits. Jesse, Marion's massage therapist had her sit in a chair as he worked softly on her shoulders and upper back.

As she sat in the shade with Mary. She gasped a little and looked at Mary. Mary had been watching the other three in the mineral pool as they laughed and joked around. She then turned to Marion who was bent over.

"Marion?"

"I think I need to go to the hospital now."

"Why?"

"I think my water just broke."

Mary gasped. "Oh!" She saw Jesse nearby and called him over. "Can you call an ambulance?"

Jesse blinked. "Of course. Why?"

"I'm in labor." Marion said.

He nodded and moved to go do as he was asked. Mary helped her friend to her feet and then walked her inside. Jesse had her sit down in a chair. A siren was heard after a time and Marion watched as they loaded her onto the stretcher.

"I'm coming too."

"No." Marion said.

"But…"

"No. Remember Prague. Enjoy your day. See you on the other side." Marion smiled. "You have better come to see me."

"I will."

"Your godson and I will be waiting."

Mary giggled. "I knew it!"

Marion glared and then a contraction hit and she groaned as the doors shut. She let the paramedics take her arm as lifted her phone. Mary had grabbed her purse and brought it to her before they left.

_Hey handsome are you around where you can talk?_

A moment later. _Naturally. What is going on? Enjoying the spa? SH_

_Are you busy?_

_Just doing experiments. Lizzy is watching me rehydrate a finger with detergent. SH_

_I'm in labor._

_You are sure? SH_

_Yes, I am sure. My water broke ten minutes ago. _

_You are a week and a half early. Sure if is really labor? I need to get the buttoners ordered. SH_

_You can't really tell the thing to stay put a few more days. Once your water breaks it is fairly imminent. _

_Where are you now? SH_

_On my way to the hospital. _

_Which one? I will meet you there. SH_

Marion looked up as they drove. "Excuse me. Where are you taking me?"

"St. Vincent's. It is the closest and the best for obstetrics." The man said looking at her and smiling. "You telling the father where to meet you?"

"Yes." Marion said. _St. Vincent's. North London. You aren't going to miss this one are you? _

_Not on your life. Love you. Just breathe. I will be there soon. I will bring John since he is here. SH_

_I know, God this hurts. _

ZzZ

She arrived and was taken into the ER. It was a short visit there when they realized she needed the women's wing. She was ushered upstairs and to a birthing room. St. Vincent's was a smaller hospital, but the women's clinic was one of the best in the country.

The birth room had a bed, monitors, lots of floor space for walking, a plasma TV, a ball to relax on, a mat to be on, and a rocking chair. Marion smiled as the nurse helped her get undressed and into a hospital gown. She sighed. She could feel the fluid running down her leg. The nurse had helped her with the first bit, but the woman told her it was normal.

She led Marion to the ball and Marion found lying on it was comfortable as she waited for her husband. The doctor, Dr. Phillips had come to see her and told her she was making good progress, but was only at seven centimeters and 50% effaced.

ZzZ

Sherlock left Lizzy with Mrs. Hudson. He was not sure if this was false labor or not so he had them stay at the house for now as he gathered John and they took a taxi to St. Vincent's. He sent out a text to Molly, Lestrade, his parents, and Mycroft. _Baby Holmes #2 on the way. St. Vincent's. SH_

There was a pause of a few moments when then he got responses.

_Already? Too late for cigars? Greg_

_Where? _From his mother.

_I will be there when I can. Mycroft_

_On my way. Molly_

Sherlock smiled a little. Of course Molly would come. He bent his head down and texted his mother. _North London. John thinks it will be a while, but you should come. With her water broken apparently this is not false labor. SH_

_On our way! _

The taxi arrived at St. Vincent's only thirty minutes later. Sherlock paid the cab driver and then he and John walked into the reception area. "Hello. I am Sherlock Holmes. My wife was brought here a short time ago. She is in labor."

"Labor and delivery is up two levels. What is her name?"

"Marion Holmes." Sherlock said.

"314." She smiled. "Take the elevator and then go to the nurse's station. They will bring you to her."

Sherlock turned even as she was still talking. John nodded. "Thank you." He smiled.

Sherlock shook his head and went to the stairway. He ran up them, two at a time, with John on his heels. Once at the third floor he walked out and looked about. He went to the nurse's station and looked at the board. Marion's name was in blue in room 314.

John stepped to the desk. "Excuse me, can you tell me where room, 314 is?"

"Sure. It is down at the end of the hall. And you are…?"

"I'm Dr. Watson and this…" He blinked and realized Sherlock was already on the move. "He is an idiot. Thank you."

Sherlock moved down to a hallway, but John grabbed his arm. "This hallway, Sherlock."

"Oh."

They walked together, hearing cries of women in pain. Sherlock winced and they came to the door. He took a breath.

John looked at him. "Just remember. She is in a great deal of pain and if she says something offensive she likely doesn't mean it and won't remember it."

"Right."

"Seriously, Sherlock. Women get nasty as the pains progress. You should have heard what she said the last time."

"I wasn't there last time." Sherlock burst into the door and looked about. "Where are we at?" He asked taking in the scene of his wife with a nurse beside her, fighting a contraction as she bent forward on the ball.

John paused behind Sherlock and looked about. "Marion. Hey don't push yet, sweetheart." He said removing his jacket and then walking toward the women.

Sherlock removed his gloves, scarf, and over coat as he looked at his wife. Their eyes met as her head snapped up at John's words. The pain there made him wince a little as he stepped forward.

"Who are you two?" The nurse asked.

"You must be Kelly, Marion's nurse." Sherlock said. "I am Sherlock, this is John."

"The Sherlock? The man with the hat who solves crimes."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes. Now. How has she progressed?" He asked.

"She is a little over seven centimeters and only half effaced." Kelly said.

Sherlock squatted down as the pain eased and looked at his wife. "Hey. How are you?" He asked lifted a hand to her arm and taking her pulse.

John snapped on a glove. "Marion, do you mind?"

She shook her head. "No." She looked at Sherlock as John knelt and reached up to check her. The nurse looked at him.

"What are you doing?" Kelly asked.

"Checking her." John said as he checked with the ease and experience of a doctor.

"How would you know about…"

"I delivered her first child." John said. "I am a doctor. I am just making sure my patient is well is all. I have complete faith in you lot here. I am here to help her as a Lamaze coach." He said pulling the glove off.

Sherlock stiffened seeing the blood on it. Marion took a breath. "Stay, Sherlock. Please."

"I'm not leaving." He said unbuttoning his suit jacket and sitting in the floor before her.

John touched her shoulder. "No. You have been in labor a lot longer than an hour." He said.

She lifted her chin a little defiantly and Sherlock looked at her with narrowed eyes. "You said you were fine this morning."

"I was."

"This started this morning, didn't it?" John said.

"I wasn't going to ruin it for Mary." She said.

"This hardly qualifies." John looked at her. "Mary would have understood you ducking out to…"

Sherlock sighed. "The pains I saw, they weren't Braxton-Hicks were they?"

"I thought they were." She said. She sighed. "It didn't get bad until about two hours ago."

John nodded. "Still the baby won't be here before evening."

Sherlock looked at him. "What is your guess?" He looked at his watch. It was a quarter after four.

"Seven, eight, nine… somewhere in there."

Sherlock nodded. His friend had experience in this regard and he tended to believe him. He had hardly any knowledge on such things and he sat there looking at his wife as she rocked a little on the ball without even knowing she was doing it.

ZzZ

It was nearing six.

John had made himself comfortable as he watched TV and sat in the chair. Molly was seated nearby watching Sherlock was the consulting detective sat before his wife who lay on a mat. She was too far along for an epidural. Every contraction was getting closer together. Sherlock was sitting timing them, writing them down, and checking her pulse. The doctor had come in twice to check on her. She was making progress, but not too quickly. John was watching as well, but he was not as fussy as Sherlock was, knowing there was some time to go. Molly was in her calm collected way.

John felt his phone buzz and texted Mary. Molly looked at the clock as Marion whimpered and curled into a ball as a contraction started. Sherlock caressed her side softly. "Breathe." He said gently.

"I am." She growled.

"No you're not."

She looked up at him. She had been rolled toward him as he sat beside her watching her keenly. "I swear you are having the next one." She said through gritted teeth.

He smiled as the contraction calmed and she panted. She sat up and looked at him. Her hair was sweat fouled and she ached. He shifted to hold her as she started to cry softly. He caressed her hair as he spoke. "I'm not sure I can, but if I can I will. To save you this…" He kissed her hair and hummed a little. "Is this worse than the last?"

"No…Not that I remember."

"Women do not remember much of their labors." John said softly near them. "There is a drug the woman's body makes that helps them forget."

Sherlock looked up at him. "Thank you for being here."

Molly had left the room and returned with water and ice chips. She gave the water to Sherlock who took it gratefully as Marion lay against his shoulder breathing heavily as her body calmed. After a moment she moved and curled around the ball that was nearby, hugging it, rocking slowly. He sighed looking at her and then he looked up at Molly.

"Need a break?" She asked.

He took a breath and nodded. He went to the loo quickly and returned in a matter of moments. She then nodded as he repositioned himself. He reached for his phone.

Molly then turned to John. "Do you need one too John?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah. I need the loo."

She smiled. "Go ahead. I will stay with them."

He nodded and left the room. He took a breath and stretched a little before walking down the hall. He looked out the doors and saw Mycroft there. He took a breath and walked out and smiled. There was actually quite the crowd. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Lizzy, and Mary were all there.

Mycroft stood and walked to him leaning on his umbrella. "How is she? Mother won't stop texting Sherlock and he keeps leaving rather cryptic answers about Marion's progress."

John nodded. "Progressing." He smiled. "Excuse me a moment. I will be right back." He went to the loo and returned to the group. Lestrade was pacing a little, Lizzy was coloring, and the others were standing waiting for him.

He took a breath. "She is moving along nicely, but it will be evening before the baby comes."

Lestrade nodded. "She is doing well though?"

"Yeah. She is holding up better than the last one." John looked meaningfully at Mycroft. "At least her husband is with her this time."

"He was in the building last time."

"Solving your terrorist plot. Her cries as I recall were a distraction to you." John said a little bit with contempt.

"Oh John leave it. We need to be supportive." Mary said.

He nodded.

Lestrade sighed. "Anyone fancy some coffee or tea?"

"Yes please." Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Holmes said almost together.

Mycroft nodded.

Greg disappeared.

John spotted the doctor as he made his way back. "Oh Dr. Watson." Dr. Phillips said.

"Hello."

"Buzz you in?"

"Thanks."

They walked into the hallway together. "Your girl is lucky. Sherlock Holmes three doctors, several nurses…"

"Great support. Everyone in there is for her as well."

"Indeed. I wish all my women had so many."

John chuckled. "The last one she was in a bunker and I delivered her. That little bombshell in there coloring was the first."

The doctor smiled and nodded.

They walked in together and spotted Sherlock feeding his wife ice chips as she rolled on the ball with Molly pressing a cold towel to her brow to wipe away the sweat. The room was cool, and yet she still was sweating.

It was another hour before the doctor came back. John had become concerned that Marion wasn't progressing and the fetus's heart rate was elevated. The doctor knelt to check her after Sherlock moved her to the bed. She was exhausted already and had not even started hard pushing yet. He stood beside her looking down.

The doctor looked up at John and then nodded to his nurses. "Prep the OR." He said.

"What?" John asked. "What's wrong?"

"Baby is breech." The doctor said. "It is stuck most likely. I am not going to take a chance. Going to pull it now."

"Can't you turn it?" Sherlock asked looking at his wife who was looking at him with fear.

"Why stress the mother and child? I can pull the baby in five minutes when I get her in there."

Sherlock nodded and looked at his wife who had taken his hand in a vice like grip. "Sherlock…what? What are they going to do?"

"C-section." He said. A nurse came and shifted the bed and he stepped back. He freed his hand.

The doctor nodded to John and Sherlock. "Go get gowned up with Emily there." He said nodding to a nurse.

"Sherlock!" Marion cried out.

"It's okay. I will be right there." He said almost in a daze.

Molly came to him and touched his arm. "Go." She said pushing him after John. Marion was crying a little as she was pushed toward the operating room and her doctor moved to scrub in with several nurses. Emily helped Sherlock dress in scrubs and pull on a gown. She showed him how to scrub in. John, a medical surgeon was already waiting at the door.

Marion looked up. They had put up a screen at her chest to keep her from seeing what was going on. The doctor nodded to Sherlock and John to move to her head. Sherlock took his wife's hand as she started to cry in relief.

John touched her cheek softly. "It's okay. This will be quick, Marion. Then we will get you all sewn up and the baby will be here."

Sherlock knelt by his wife and touched her face and kissed her hand. He watched the doctors moving about. Marion felt a pulling sensation, but nothing more. The nurse stood beside Sherlock and smiled. "Baby is out."

Another nurse laughed. "It's a boy momma!"

There was a squall and Marion started laughing as tears fell down. A second nurse lifted the quite large baby over the curtain for them to see. It was a boy and he was angry. Sherlock laughed and kissed his wife. "Quite a set of lung on him."

John laughed and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What are you going to call him?"

Sherlock blinked. "Ummm."

"Kerrin. Kerrin William George Holmes."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. "You knew you carried a boy."

"Yes."

"And you kept it from me?"

She smiled happily. The doctor sewed and bandaged her up before he sent her, the baby, whom Sherlock held to him with the experience of a father, and John with him to the room. Marion was sore, exhausted, and was put on pain medication to help her.

The baby slept in his father's arms after Sherlock had gotten out of his gown. He was not allowed to take the baby out, but John went to go fetch the group after Marion was settled.

She looked up at Sherlock happily. "I love you."

He smiled and bent to kiss her. "Thank you for my son." He looked at the reddish hair on his son's head. The baby had blue eyes for now after the silver nitrate was put in his eyes. He now slept. The labor process was just as exhausting on infants as it was their mothers.

He bounced the baby softly as he stood beside his wife, holding her hand in his as the door opened to reveal Molly and the rest. They all greeted the new arrival and congratulated Sherlock and Marion. Lizzy was very curious about her sibling and Sherlock bent down so she could see her little brother. She thought he looked funny which amused the adults.

Marion was nearly asleep when Sherlock shooed everyone out to let her rest. He continued to hold his son as he dropped into the rocking chair smiling. Marion soon slept in her drug induced sleep as he looked at his son. He looked like Marion, though his high cheek bones were Sherlock's. The boy was perfect from his tiny feet to his fluff of red brown hair. He was larger than his sister was, nearly nine pounds.

Sherlock looked back at his wife. He had changed so in four years. He had gone from having little experience with women to being married with a child on the way to now being the father of two. So many changes and he was happy, content, and could only grow.

ZzZ

March 29th 2014

Marion had been sent home with the healthy baby boy after three days. She still moved about with hesitation due to her surgery. She was not allowed to lift anything and Sherlock fluttered around the flat planning and making sure she was well. She had been home nearly a week and was yet to lift a finger, though she was able to, after a couple days of sleeping, come and help plan, though her husband made sure she stayed seated.

For now the baby and Lizzy were down for naps. Lizzy had protested a bit, but Sherlock had made sure she went to bed. He promised plugged in his Ipad so she could listen to him playing his violin, a recording he had done to make sure she slept for her uncle when she was staying with him for a couple days after Kerrin was born.

Sherlock stood in the living room of 221B looking at his information wall behind the sofa. He turned to where Mary was sitting at the dining table and John was sitting in his armchair and looking at his phone. Marion was in the chair next to Mary looking over her own notes. She was still a little pale and was still on pain medication, but her husband had sworn to see her right again.

"Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin." Sherlock said softly.

Mary smiled. "Ah, orphan's lot. Friends that's all I have. Lots of friends.

Sherlock looked at his list. Sherlock was truly organizing the whole affair. The wall was divided into items labeled Transport, Catering, Rehearsal, Wine, Venue, and Church. Items were ticked off and Sherlock sighed looking over the notes again.

On the table before Mary and Marion was a cardboard 3D model of the reception venue. Sherlock had crafted it using a cereal box and some items from a craft store. Lizzy had helped him and had even made the stage for him.

"Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11.48…"

Marion looked up. "Sherlock…"

"But the rehearsal's not for another two weeks. Just calm down." Mary said.

Sherlock frowned. "Calm? I am calm. I'm extremely calm."

"Let's get back to the reception, come on."

He walked over to the table and stood beside Mary. He looked at his wife who shifted and winced a little. "Are you well?"

"Fine." She smiled. "Just pulled the stitches a little." She had been forced to walk bent over a little and sighed as she wrote something down.

Mary handed Sherlock a RSVP card. "John's cousin. Top table?"

Sherlock looked at the card. "Hmm. Hates you. Can't even bear to think about you."

Mary looked at him. "Seriously?"

"Second class post, cheap card ..." He sniffed the card and grimaced. " ... bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva."

"Ah…" She looked back at John. "Let's stick her by the bogs."

Marion smiled a little.

"Oh yes." Sherlock said.

He sat down and Mary leaned toward him.

"Who else hates me?"

Instantly, Sherlock hands her a list without looking up. There are quite a few names on it.

"Oh great thanks!"

"Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting." Sherlock said from his chair.

Mary looked at Marion. "Table four ..."

"Done." Sherlock answered.

John chuckled as he looked at his phone. "'My husband is three people.'"

"Table five." Mary said.

Marion nodded. "All, but Major Sholto." She passed the paper to her husband.

Sherlock looked at a list. "Major James Sholto. Who he?"

"Oh, John's old commanding officer. I don't think he's coming." Mary said.

"He'll be there." John said.

"Well, he needs to RSVP, then." Mary said.

"He'll be there." John said firmly.

"Mmm ..." Mary said.

"'My husband is three people.' It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin." John continued as he read.

Sherlock stood up and turned to the coffee table. "Identical triplets…one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes." He said looking at Mary. He squatted down and pulled out a tray with two different shaped napkins on it. He looked up at Mary. "Swan, or Sydney Opera House?"

Mary laughed. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Marion smirked. "Seriously. With as bored as he gets."

Sherlock looked at them. "Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation ..."

"Fibbing, Sherlock." Mary said.

"Napkin folding in criminal investigation…" Marion said looking over.

"I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of ..." Sherlock said gesturing.

"I'm not John. I can tell when you're fibbing."

Sherlock looked down and looked exasperated. "Okay… I learned it on Youtube."

Marion laughed and then winced. "He learned to braid Lizzy's hair there too."

Mary smiled. "Opera House, please." She leaned to one side and pulled out her phone. "Ooh, hang on. I'm buzzing." She lifted it to her ear. "Hello?" She listened a moment then stood up. "Oh, hi, Beth!"

John's eyes lifted from his phone as Mary went into the kitchen,

"Yeah, yeah, don't see why not." Mary said into her phone.

John stood up and looked at Sherlock. "Actually, if that's Beth, it's probably for me too. Hang on." He headed for the kitchen, while Sherlock sat down on the floor cross-legged and facing the coffee table.

Marion sighed. "I need to get a pain pill and check on Kerrin. "I will be back." Sherlock looked up a moment as she grunted rising to her feet. She waved him off and moved toward the kitchen. She said walking passed Mary and John into the bathroom, a little hesitantly. She smiled a little at Mary as she passed and Mary nodded.

John waited for the bathroom door to shut before he spoke quietly to Mary. "He knows we don't have a friend called Beth. He's gonna figure out that its code."

"He's Youtubeing serviettes."

"He's thorough."

"He's terrified."

"'Course he's not.

"Right, you know when you're scared of something, you start wishing it sooner just to get it all going? That's what he's doing."

"Why would he be scared that weâ ™re getting married? It's not gonna change anything… we'll still do stuff."

"Well, you need to prove it to him. I told you to find him a new case."

"I'm trying."

"You need to run him, okay? Show him it's still the good old days."

He didn't immediately respond so she nodded again and gestured to the living room. He looked around and turns slowly toward the room. He walked and Mary put her hands on his back and shoved him forward as Marion came out of the bathroom and smirked a little at Mary who looked back at her and put a finger to her lips as she spoke into her phone. Marion checked on the baby and then walked back to her friend smiling.

Sherlock was still sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, his head propped up on one hand. He briefly looked round at John, then turned back and gestured at what's in front of him. There are at least seven serviettes folded in Sydney Opera House shapes on the table, and sixteen or so more on the floor.

"That just sort of ... happened." He said.

He looked around at John again who frowned a little and then smiled. Glancing back at the kitchen he can see the women together as Mary still fakes talking to Beth.

He walked toward his friend. "Sherlock, um ..." Sherlock stood up. "... mate ..." He paused thinking perhaps that was a little thick. "I-I've ..."

He walked to the table and sat down. Sherlock glanced toward the kitchen where Mary could be heard talking. Sherlock dropped into a seat as well.

"I've smelled eighteen different perfumes; I've sampled ..." He paused to recall. "... nine different slices of cake which all tasted identical; I like the bridesmaids in purple ..."

"Lilac." Sherlock corrected.

"... lilac. Um, there are no more decisions left to make. I don't even understand the decisions that we have made. I'm faking opinions and it's exhausting, so please, before she comes back ..." He glanced at the kitchen and activated his phone. He cleared his throat and held the phone across the table. The screen was of Sherlock's website, The Science of Deduction. "... pick something." Sherlock's eyes flicked to the phone and back to his friend. "Anything. Pick one."

Sherlock asked. "Pick what?"

John blinked at him and then laughed. "A case. Your Inbox is bursting. Just ... get me out of here."

Sherlock leaned closer. "You want to go out on a case? N-now?"

"Please, Sherlock, for me."

Sherlock took the phone realizing his friend was going crazy. Sherlock took a breath and then said quietly. "Don't you worry about a thing. I'll get you out of this." He flicked through the messages and found one. "Oh." He read more of the email and smiled. "Uniform fetishist. 'All the nice girls like a soldier.'"

"It's sailor." He paused as Sherlock quietly read him the email. "And Bainbridge thinks his stalker is a bloke."

Sherlock looked back at the phone.

"Let's go and investigate. Please?

"'Elite Guard.'"

"Forty enlisted men and officers."

"Why this particular Grenadier? Curious."

"Now you're talking."

"Okay."

They stood up and Mary returned with the phone to her ear. "Bye." She smiled.

"Er, we're just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er, socks."

Sherlock spoke his last word at the same time "... ties."

Mary looked from one to the other. "Why don't we go with socks?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, you've got to get the right ones."

"Exactly…to go with my ..."

" ... tie." Sherlock said.

"... outfit." John said giving Sherlock a look. He looked down.

Mary looked at John. "That'll take a while, right?"

John pointed to the kitchen. "My coat in there?"

"Yes!"

He walked to the kitchen and found Marion breast feeding little Kerrin. He smiled at her. She wasn't wearing a cover as she looked at a bridal magazine. He dipped his head to her and kissed her cheek.

"I'm going to go get him out of here for a bit. You will be okay?" He asked softly.

"Oh course." She said softly to him. She patted his arm as he looked down at his godson.

Sherlock stepped to Mary. "Just going to take him out for a bit…run him." He said softly. "

Mary smiled. "I know."

Sherlock smiled at her. "Tell Marion we are…"

"I will." Mary smiled happily. "You said you'd find him a case!"

"Mm."

John came to the kitchen doorway. "Come on, Sherlock."

"Coming." Sherlock said. He went to the living room door and turned to face Mary. Unseen by the other male in the room. Sherlock gave her a double thumbs-up and gave her a grin. John beamed at Mary and she held up her thumbs to them both and grinned.

The pair then disappeared and Sherlock went outside. "Taxi!" He called.

Mary looked in at Marion. "Well now we are safe for a couple hours. Think we can take Kerrin shopping?"

"The piglet will just rest. I will have Mrs. Hudson be with Lizzy."

Mary nodded and reached for her coat.

ZzZ

Sherlock and John walked to the parade sergeant and spoke to him. "We're here to see Private Stephen Bainbridge."

"He's on duty right now, sir …" He handed John's wallet back. "... but I'll certainly let him know when he's free."

"And when will that be?" Sherlock asked.

"Another hour."

The pair walked across the street to a park bench. Bainbridge, with another Foot Guard, was on duty outside the gates of the barracks. He stood fixed in position and tourists took photographs.

"Do you think they give them classes?" Sherlock mused.

"Classes?"

"How to resist the temptation to scratch their behinds?"

"Afferent neurons in the peripheral nervous system." Sherlock turned his head a little to John. "Bum itch."

"Oh!" They sat in silence a moment before Sherlock spoke again. "So why don't you see him anymore?"

"Who?"

"Your previous commander, Sholto."

"'Previous commander'"

Sherlock closed his eyes a moment. "I meant 'ex'."

"'Previous' suggests that I currently have a commander."

"Which you don't."

"Which I don't."

"'Course you don't. He was decorated, wasn't he? A war hero."

"Not to everyone. He led a team of crows into battle."

"'Crows'?"

"New recruits. It's standard procedure; break the new boys in…but it went wrong. They all died; he was the only survivor. The press and the families gave him hell. He gets more death threats than you."

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that."

"Why have you suddenly taken an interest in another human being?"

"I'm ... chatting." John's eyebrows raised and he looked at his friend. Sherlock half turned and looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Won't be trying that again."

"Changing the subject completely ..." He took a deep breath throw his nose. "... you know it won't alter anything, right, me and Mary, getting married? We'll still be doing all this."

"Oh, good."

"If you were worrying."

"Wasn't worried."

John looked down and chuckled thoughtfully. "See, the thing about Mary…she has completely turned my life around; changed everything. But, for the record, over the last few years there are two people who have done that ... and the other one is ..." He looked around and realized Sherlock was no longer there. "... a complete dickhead."

He looked about. Sherlock was gone.

ZzZ

In an office nearby, an officer called Major Reed was sitting behind his desk and looking at John's military ID card. He looked up at John who is sitting opposite him.

"Can I ask what this is in connection with?"

"Private Bainbridge contacted us about a personal matter, sir."

"Nothing's personal when it concerns my troops. What do you really want?"

"I'm here on a legitimate enquiry."

"Press? Digging for some bloody Royal story or something?"

John pointed to his card. "No, sir, I'm Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Retired. You could be a used car salesman now, for all I know." Reed looked closely at John. "I know you, don't I?"

"Hmm?"

"I've seen you in the papers." John shifted uncomfortably. "Hang around with that detective…the one with the silly hat. What the hell does Bainbridge want with a detective?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."

"You're not at liberty to say?! He's a soldier in my regiment…I'll be damned if he's going to get up to cloak and dagger nonsense like this."

The sergeant came to the room. "Sir ..."He paused seeing Reed wasn't alone. "Sir."

"What's going on?" Reed demanded.

"It's Bainbridge, sir. He's dead."

Reed looked at him horrified and ran toward the shower room with the sergeant and John behind him.

In the shower room, Bainbridge was now lying face down on the floor on top of a great deal of broken glass. There was a lot of blood on his lower back. The duty sergeant led the others in, and Reed hurried over to the body staring at it in shock.

"My God!"

John tried to go to the body. "Ah, no, let me take a look, sir. I'm a doctor."

"What? Sergeant, arrest this man." Reed said.

The sergeant went behind John and held his arms behind him.

John started to protest. "What? No-no! I'm a..I'm a doctor."

"Oh, you're a doctor now, too. Sergeant ..." Reed jerked his head at the door.

"Let me examine him, please!" John said as the sergeant tried to pull him from the room.

Another sergeant came into the room with Sherlock standing with his arms behind him. "Sir, caught this one snooping around."

Reed looked at John. "Is that what this was all about? Distracting me so that this man could get in here and kill Bainbridge?"

John looked at him shocked. "Don't be ..."

Sherlock pulled free of the sergeant to look at the body. The sergeant grabbed him again and Sherlock looked up at Reed. "Kill him with what? Where's the weapon?

"What?"

"Where's the weapon? Go on, search me." He held his arms wide. "No weapon."

John spoke. "Bainbridge was on parade. He came off duty five minutes ago. When's this supposed to have happened?"

Reed looked at Sherlock. "You obviously stabbed him before he got into the shower."

"No." Sherlock said.

"No?!"

"He's soaking wet and there's still shampoo in his hair. He got into the shower and then someone stabbed him."

The first sergeant spoke up. "The cubicle was locked from the inside, sir. I had to break it open."

"You must have climbed over the top." Reed said.

"Well then I'd be soaking wet too, wouldn't I?"

John had had enough. "Major, please. I'm John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Three years in Afghanistan, a veteran of Kandahar, Helmand, and Bart's bloody Hospital." He looked at the major. "Let me examine this body." He said firmly.

Reed looked at the body and back and nodded sharply. The sergeant released him.

John took off his jacket. "Thank you."

John walked forward and put his coat on the bench and crouched by the body. The sergeant looked at Sherlock and spoke quietly. "Suicide?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No. The weapon again…no knife." He walked to the front of the shower cubicle and bent down to look all around it, then squatted down at Bainbridge's head. John was examining Bainbridge's lower back. The wound was on his back.

"Hmm. There is a wound to the abdomen… incredibly fine."

"Man stabbed to death. No murder weapon. Door locked from the inside. Only one way in or out of here." Sherlock said.

John moved to Bainbridge's head and peeled one of his eyes open. "Sherlock."

"Mmm?"

"He's still breathing." John said.

The sergeant gasped. "Oh my God."

Sherlock looked at John as he shifted to the side. "What do we do?"

"Give me your scarf." John said.

"What?"

"Quickly, now."

While Sherlock unwrapped his scarf from his neck, John looked up at Reed and the others who were stunned.

"Call an ambulance."

"What?" the sergeant asked.

John barked louder. "Call an ambulance now." He pointed to the door. "DO IT!"

Both of the sergeants turned and hurried from the room. John pressed the scarf against the wound in Bainbridge's back. He reached over to the squatting Sherlock and took his hand and put it on top of the scarf, positioning his fingers where he wanted them. Sherlock's large hands would be of good use here.

"Nurse, press here…hard." John said.

Sherlock's nose wrinkled in distaste. "'Nurse'?"

"Yeah, I'm making do. Keep pressure on that wound."

Sherlock nodded and leaned closer so that he could press harder. John moved to Bainbridge's head.

" Stephen. Stephen, stay with me."

ZzZ

The pair came home after giving their statements. Sherlock and John washed the blood off and Sherlock demanded they go find another scarf since his had been used to save the life.

Sherlock lifted his phone. _Fancy some dinner? Are you two even home? SH_

_We are home. Where are you? _Came Marion's reply.

_We just saved a life. John saved a man who was stabbed. I think he deserves a nice dinner. SH_

_Where?_

_Ask Mary. SH_

_She wants Chinese. _

_Done. We will be there shortly. Do you think Kerrin will survive that long without his mother? SH_

_Yes. I pumped for Mrs. Hudson, but I can have Molly come over. _

_Do it. I will see you in a few minutes. SH_

He took a breath and looked at John. "Well that certainly made up for you being bored didn't it?"

"Yes, yes indeed." John smiled.


End file.
